Rainy Day Thoughts

It's raining today; not a downpour but rather the slow drizzly kind that dampens the spirit and seems to go on forever. And while spring is coming, the chill still seeps into the marrow of my bones.

This morning I have climbed into Cat-Dad's lap and snuggled into his robe as he does his early morning reading. My thoughts wander as I drift in and out of a light sleep. Lying here safe and warm I can dream about the future that he has so often described, a future where cruelty is a shameful thing of the past. A future where hunger and abandonment, overpopulation and physical abuse, are only darkly suppressed memories within the collective mind of an enlightened human society.

I dream also of our future together and envision our lives fifteen years from now. As an Elder, I see myself once again snuggled in Cat-Dad's lap as he reads on a damp and rainy Monday morning. The chair is bigger as is our home. Kittens of all ages still chase each other through our house. However, importantly, there is no longer need for them to receive medical and psychological care to repair damage done to them by humans. Their stay is merely transitional, on their way to predestined forever homes.

Yes, I have pleasant thoughts and dreams whenever I am lying close to my Cat-Dad. It is my fondest desire that before I pass on I may see even some small evidence of change in human society as a result of the work that we and countless other animal rescue groups across the nation continue to do. It is a shared vision that together we can not only embrace, but also see achieved.

I am only one small cat and the task of creating change is enormous. However my belief in this vision is strong and my confidence in the part we play is steady. Cat-Dad teaches that the size of our success will always be directly proportional to the size of our belief.* I accept that and it is the reason I can rest here, confident in knowing the work we do this day will benefit those in countless generations yet to come.

With love for all,

Noel
-----
By the power of faith every enduring work is accomplished.
- James Allen

* David Schwartz - The Magic of Thinking Big

The Warmth of Love

This morning I awoke with a start as a strange foreboding made my spirit shiver. Something cold was going to happen, but I did not know what it might be. I opened my eyes and was comforted to see that Cat-Dad was still sleeping beside me. Deeply I pressed back under his chin, which has become my permanent sleeping spot at night. He would keep me warm. It was his promise that Christmas eve of 2006 when a rescuer brought me to him, almost dead from pneumonia, starvation and cold. As if an unconscious message had just been relayed, his arm moved to cover me and press me closer.

How well (and frightfully) do I remember being cold. It was always that way on the street, especially at night as a kitten all alone when I huddled against the wall of an alley instead of being at my mother's side. It was there I also learned about hunger. As I now lay warmly wrapped in Cat-Dad's arms with the knowledge that breakfast would soon be provided, I thought about those first months of my life on the streets. How different it is now. Cold, hunger, and loneliness are things of my past and I am so thankful for my life. I have important work to do in feline and human rescue. Surely, no cat could be happier than me!

Cat-Dad has told me that humans who have other humans who deeply care for them live longer and happier lives. I believe that must also be true for cats who have someone to love them. The warmth of Cat-Dad radiates not only from his body, but from that inner love he has for me and all of us who come to this rescue/foster home. It is the source of his healing power of which every one of us has experienced.

Well, it turned out that my foreboding feeling was right. Today it snowed - hard - paralyzing the city and making travel extremely hazardous. The temperature fell far below normal for our area, but this time, I was on the inside of the window looking out. I never forget how easily fate could have arranged instead for me to be on the outside looking in. I thought of so many other cats who are still in that situation and rededicated myself to our commitment of bringing warmth and food to those in need.

The task of a working rescue cat is never done. But perhaps for just this little while, I will close my eyes and revel in the comfort that has been given to me through the warmth of my special person's love.


With love for all,

Noel
-----

Things Other-Seeming

Today as my good friend Darla and I were playing, I marveled once again at the beauty and intricacy of her exceptionally soft fur. On the surface, she is easily mistaken for just an average black cat. Yet like her personality, a closer look reveals something very much different and unexpected. Darla is in reality a Tabby Cat!

When she and I curl up together for our afternoon nap, often as I drift into sleep I am transported in my mind to the rain-forests of Brazil, Mexico, and adjacent countries.

There Cat-Dad says roams a distant cousin of ours - the mighty Black Panther, largest cat in the Western Hemisphere. And just like Darla, a closer look into that black fur reveals patterns; the characteristic rosette spots of the South American Jaguar. The Panther is a mutation accounting for approximately 6% of the Jaguar population and results in a pigmentation within the skin termed melanism. I'm uncertain what the term might be in my Tabby Cat friend.

Regardless, these observations remind me that what we see in another upon casual encounter is not always the truth. Every individual, whether Tabby Cat, Black Panther, or Human, has many complex layers which belie characteristics that are other-seeming. And not all are always on the outside.

When Darla and her sister Charlotte first came to our home, now almost two years ago, both kittens were absolutely feral. It required four months of patient interactions before they would accept even me as a friend, and an additional five months of conditioning before responding well to human contact. Such is the consequence of growing up young on the streets.

On the outside, Darla is slower than her sister to favorably respond to strangers, but I see within her the loving friend who now anxiously seeks Cat-Dad's touch. Always she is the wild animal who roams our house blending into the night with all the skills of our distant black cousins. Ever a contradiction in terms, this rare black Tabby on the outside with the heart of a Panther on the inside, is just waiting to find that special human who will understand and embrace this dichotomy of her turbulent past.

With love for all,

Noel
-----
He's quite extraordinary at being ordinary. He has this dichotomy about him that's fascinating to watch.
- Author Unknown

Memory

Last night Cat-Dad and I were spending some quality time together watching a recording of one of his favorite musicals - Cats. It was a first for me, and it especially struck a chord when Elaine Paige as Grizabella sang Memory. Surely, hers was an affliction written for all of us abandoned cats that in real life have found ourselves living on the streets.

Cat-Dad could see that I was visibly moved, and after the show took me into his office and turned on the computer. We found and replayed the YouTube version of the selection we had just heard. But then, he opened another interpretation that he said spoke to him even more poignantly of the need for feline rescue. It was the original lyrics of Memory which were replaced because of their intensity.

Cat-Dad then told me the story of Mitzu and her five unborn kittens. She was a cat who had been captured on the streets by Animal Control and taken to an Animal Shelter. Tired and weak from her attempts to survive, Mitzu was rescued from that shelter shortly after her arrival and brought to Cat-Dad's home. There she would recuperate and have her kittens, and all would be helped to find a new life.

How Cat-Dad had felt for this little cat who had had such a terrible life. He wept when he told me of how she became ill soon after arriving, having contracted a respiratory infection at the shelter. He tried everything he knew, but in her weakened condition, Mitzu had lost the will to live. Within only a short time she became so sick that he admitted her to the hospital. There, despite the efforts of the emergency veterinarians, she was so depleted that all hope was lost. At 4:00 am, the decision was made to remove the tubes, and administer the merciful drug that would allow Mitzu the street cat to finally sleep. Cat-Dad and their entire rescue organization were shattered by this death that no one could understand. Not at least, until he read these lost and abandoned lyrics.

Daylight, I don't care if it finds me
With no breath in my body, with no beat in my heart.
For I'm certain that now I know what happiness is.
Wish I'd known that from the start.

Oh, how I know what Mitzu was feeling. During those first few weeks of my own recovery from pneumonia and starvation, I was often overwhelmed with love and gratitude for being taken from that life on the streets. If I had died right then, I could have felt I had truly lived, even if for only a few days. For it is reaching out with love to another that truly gives our lives meaning. And this was the first time that both Mitzu and I had ever known the kindly touch of a human hand.

It has now been five years since this little mother passed through our rescue/foster home, yet plainly her impact is still strongly felt. Cat-Dad went on to say that warmly wrapped in a blanket, Mitzu and her five unborn kittens now sleep on the hillside behind our home that overlooks a small stream. Finally, she has found a safe home and someone to love her as she deserves. She continues to live on in the hearts and memory of all who knew her; and now, Mitzu also lives on in mine.

With love for all,

Noel
-----
As I leave you a shadow of the light I once was,
May my memory sleep at last.
- Tim Rice

Street lights, and the darkness between them,
Like the good and the bad side of a life almost done.
Shake the memory of my passions returning to me.
None forgotten, no not one.

One life, is there only the one life,
That we lose in the living in an endless decline?
No complaining for no one else has seen what I've seen.
One existence, only mine.

Don't look back, no don't look back,
So hard to heed that warning.
Such temptation but the past is past,
And night makes way for morning.

Daylight, I won't care if it finds me
With no breath in my body, with no beat in my heart.
For I'm certain that now I know what happiness is.
Wish I'd known that from the start.

Burnt out ends of smoky days,
The stale cold smell of morning.
A street lamp dies another night is over
Another day is dawning.

Touch me, is there no one to touch me
It was easy to love me in my glamorous past.
As I leave you a shadow of the light I once was,
May my memory sleep at last.

-----
Lyrics by Tim Rice

Mother's Day

Another Mother's Day has come and now is rapidly waning. It makes me think of all the young mothers in our rescue organization and the fierce love each has for her new kittens. For many, it is their first experience, and their young bodies have not fully grown themselves. Such early pregnancies exact a permanent toll; yet still, all have risen to this noble task.

I think also of the orphans we have. Two brother-sister pairs who are barely 6 weeks and 8 weeks old, respectively. Far too young to be without a mother to hold them, feed them, and provide them the warmth they need in which to sleep. These orphans I understand well, because I, too, lost my mother at a very early age.

Try as I might, I cannot remember her well because I was so very young. All that remains are bits and pieces of the traumatic consequences. One day I was with her, and the next somehow I was out there on the street. Weeks went by, and I cried and cried as I searched, but could not find her. Alone and scared, each night instead of sleeping by her side, I huddled in alleyways against the cold. Hunger was my constant companion. I found terrible things to eat, and that only occasionally enough to make me grateful. Over time, I felt myself becoming weaker. A persistent cough developed, and the light in my right eye began to dim into blindness. With it dimmed the light of my spirit.

But always I held onto what had become a vision of Mother. She was strong, and beautiful, and loving. She had fed me and watched over me when I slept and was always there to comfort me with her gentle purr.

Imagine my surprise, when several months later having regained my health in Cat-Dad's home,I saw a picture on his mantle of a beautiful white cat. She had the majestic appearance of confidence, yet the warm glow of motherhood that surrounded her like an aura. Surely, it was Mother!

But no, he said. That is Francesca, a very special angel who was rescued from a shelter with her five young kittens many years before I had even been born. She was sent there because her people no longer wanted her. It was a long time ago that Francesca and her kittens had come to live for a brief time in our foster home.

Yet still that picture is special to me, and I will always think of it as my memory of Mother. It is that vision which years later, I still carry. I know not what became of Mother, and if she still lives what path she now travels. But regardless, the bond I feel will always exist. Even today, at two-and-a-half years old, I still feel the urge to climb into that picture and snuggle up into her motherly warmth. Such is the constant dream of all orphans, and I believe the reason why Cat-Dad keeps this picture of a very special angel on the mantle for all of us to see.

With love for all,

Noel
-----
Hundreds of dewdrops to greet the dawn,
Hundreds of bees in the purple clover,
Hundreds of butterflies on the lawn,
But only one mother the wide world over.
- Author Unknown

The Power of One

In my December post I wrote about how I had learned that even the smallest life is important, and that everyone on this earth was placed here with a role to play. (Go ahead, I'll wait for you here.) Today I would like to continue that theme and show another side of what keeps those of us in feline rescue motivated to always continue. It's a message that I will use Spatz to illustrate.

Spatz is a black and white kitten (now cat) who on the outside seems fairly unremarkable. He looks like many other kittens/cats that have passed through Cat-Dad's rescue/foster home. Like so many others, he and his sister, Sahara, came from an animal shelter where they had been sent because no one wanted them. Sahara was a dazzling tortoiseshell beauty and every eye was immediately drawn to her. She and Spatz shared a room in Cat-Dad's home with two other kittens rescued from another animal shelter. These two were brothers, and like Spatz and Sahara, also had had their mother taken from them.

Of the four kittens, Spatz was definitely the least self-confident. But behind his shy and introspective manner could be seen a distinctive trait of caring for others. When all the kittens went to adoption events, people admired and played with the others, but Spatz seemed always to be left out. They were getting their forever homes, but not Spatz. Soon he alone remained, still living in foster care.

Then one weekend just before Christmas, a couple came to the adoption event. They were searching for a very special kitten to join their family, one who could help their young son to learn responsibility. Spatz was excited yet frightened to be chosen for such a role. He had seen how small boys could sometimes be overly rough with kittens. Cat-Dad knew this also, and in such cases went to much further lengths in qualifying a family before he would ever release one of his charges for adoption.

After much evaluation, he was eventually able to assure Spatz that this family, including the little boy, would be kind to him. In fact, Cat-Dad said, this family had been attracted to Spatz for this mission because of those very qualities of introspection and caring. Not only was Spatz to be a loving friend to this little boy, but it would be his task to set in place the foundation of a value system that would long outlive his brief time on this earth. He was being chosen as a "life coach" in the true sense of that term!

Cat-Dad explained that this was a very great charge to place on his little shoulders, because little boys grow up to become young men. And just like kittens, their personality and value system are shaped during this critical stage of life. Young men eventually become leaders who direct the making of national or corporate policy. They make laws and rules concerning how others are to be governed and treated. The love and companionship of a wise and compassionate cat while children are growing up will be instrumental in shaping their regard for all sentient beings.

So here was Spatz; a tiny introspective kitten, discarded as an infant and then overlooked by most everyone because of his shy nature. How easy it would have been for him to just give up and believe he was worthless. Yet to Spatz was given one of the most important charges a kitten could ever receive. Truly he now has a life that makes a difference and that will ultimately leave a legacy in the character of the human that he is raising.

If you sometimes are discouraged or are tempted to think you're nothing special, I would implore you to remember this story of our little Spatz. Every life has value so much greater than you know, and your potential to be a positive influence and leave a worthwhile legacy does exist. I believe in you, and in the truth that one life will always have the power to make a difference.

With love for all,

Noel
-----
If you have men who will exclude any of God's creatures from the shelter of compassion and pity, you have men who will deal likewise with their fellow man.
- St Francis of Assisi

Cast Your Bread

As our readers now know, when I first came to this home, I was isolated in Intensive Care for almost six months, and thus was not really aware of my surroundings. However, what you may not know was that, after my recovery, Cat-Dad did find me a home. But I was not happy there, mainly because I was so alone. And although my new Mistress was a wonderful person and really loved me a lot, she was gone for so much of the day that it was really a strain on us both. Eventually, she had to return me.

That is when I discovered the true extend of what happens in a feline rescue/foster home. So many broken bodies and broken spirits. My new friend Sasha explained that it was a constant struggle to support and encourage those who lived with us, and that she had been working for several years at Cat-Dad's side. She did whatever she could to help these unfortunate individuals, not only to heal their minds, but also to heal their spirits and help them learn how once again to trust. It did not take me long to realize that here was my true calling in life, and that somehow I needed to stay in this home.

And so, I became part of the team, working along side of Sasha to care for the other patients and residents. One of my responsibilities became to travel each weekend with our cats to the adoption event and help keep them calm. Having to be in a cage once again is a frightening experience for most, especially when there are dogs barking, people staring, and children making loud noises. It scared me, too, at first but I could not let that interfere with my task because others even more frightened were counting on me to help. Grooming, of course. is the cat way of doing this, and so that became my specialty.

Some may think this a chore, or imposition, but for me grooming is an expression of love. Love not only for another individual, but love of the life that pneumonia almost took from me; love of the morning that heralds a new day that I will spend with my human companion; and love for all those who come to us in pain and suffering. Having received so much since my rescue in 2006, returning it to others in this way seems only fair.

And everyone knows that love is the one thing that increases the more that we give it away.

With love for all,

Noel
-----
Give and it shall be given unto you; good measure, pressed down, and shaken together, and running over... For with the same measure that ye mete withal it shall be measured to you again.
- Luke 6:38 (KJV)

Another December

Cat-Dad has told me that December can be a time of special difficulty for humans because of stress and unmet holiday expectations. For many, this month seemingly emphasizes the futility of their existence and the hopelessness that stretches out before them in the coming New Year. To this I certainly relate, since it was a December - two years ago tonight - when I was first brought to Cat-Dad's home, tired, sick, and without hope. I was resigned to my life being at its end. What reason was there to think otherwise? I was a kitten alone on the streets, trying my best to survive when misery was all I had ever known. The sickness in my lungs had so affected me that I no longer had the will to survive. Until that night, there was no one who would care, or even know, if I simply closed my eyes and never opened them again.

But Cat-Dad cared. And he was not about to let me die. Repeatedly, over those many months of my convalescence, he kept telling me that I was special. I was unique. Never before in all the world had there been another kitten just like me, with my DNA, with my personality. Never would there ever be someone like me again, and for that reason alone I must live. Cat-Dad spoke of personal destiny, and told me that even the smallest life has an important part to play. Such constant encouragement provided the strength to bring me back from the edge of the abyss.

I am happy now, with loving cat friends to care for, a very special human to be with, and even my very own blog! Surely, no cat could ask for more. Yet sometimes; rarely but sometimes, in the month of December, the memories of my former life creep in and suddenly I am overwhelmed with crushing sadness. I walk again in the Valley of the Shadow. Without warning, loneliness envelops me and for hours I feel physical pain in my spirit.

At those times I remember Cat-Dad's words - that I am special, and was placed on this earth for a specific reason. My former hardships and scars are a part of me that I accept. They are woven into the tapestry of my life and make me who I am. In reflective moments I embrace these, because they have brought me closer to my Cat-Dad's love.

If these thoughts and feelings of December resonate with you, dear reader, I encourage you to borrow from my experience. Let me carry your pain. Because even the smallest life has an important part to play; and under the fur, you and I are not so different.

With love for all,

Noel
-----
Some people weave burlap into the fabric of our lives, some weave threads of gold. Both contribute to make the whole picture beautiful and unique.
- Author Unknown

With Malice Toward None

With the recent election of the 44th President of the United States, I've been reflecting on how authoritative figures of the past have viewed this characteristic of compassion, particularly as it pertains to us cats. Fortunately, one of Cat-Dad's interests is history, and his library which he makes freely available to us, contains several volumes.

Perhaps the most famous individual to lead our country was Abraham Lincoln, 16th President of the United States, and a great admirer of felines. His cat, Tabby, in March of 1861 was actually the first cat to occupy the White House. Tabby was joined by three other cats before the end of Lincoln's term (along with two dogs, a rabbit, three goats, and a Thanksgiving turkey whose life the President had spared).

Lincoln's greatest role came at a particularly difficult period of history, that of the American Civil War. Anyone who has studied this man will recognize the phrase from the Second Inaugural Address which characterizes his nature so well. The last sentence of that speech begins "With malice toward none; with charity for all; with firmness in the right as God gives us to see the right..."

Lincoln's "charity" was sorely being taxed during that time, yet history records a brief example of his compassion in the midst of overwhelming turmoil, which is not uncharacteristic for him. The following excerpt is taken from Carl Sandburg's Abraham Lincoln: The War Years (Volume IV, p146) and describes an incident that happened in late March of 1865, at the headquarters of General Ulysses S. Grant on the day Grant's army was to begin its final assault of the war. This discussion took place in Grant's telegraph hut barely three weeks after Lincoln had delivered his Second Inaugural Address, and three weeks before his untimely death at the hand of John Wilkes Booth.

The President's eyes roved the floor of the telegraph hut. They caught on three tiny kittens wandering, mewing as if lost. He picked up one and asked it, "Where is your mother?" Someone answered. "The mother is dead." And as he petted the little one: "Then she can't grieve as many a poor mother is grieving for her son lost in battle." Then, gathering the two others in his hands, he put them on his lap, stroked their fur and meditated, "Kitties, thank God you are cats, and can't understand this terrible strife that's going on." Then more practically and immediately to the kittens, according to Colonel Horace Porter, "Poor little creatures, don't cry; you will be taken good care of." And to Bowers, "Colonel, I hope you will see that these poor motherless waifs are given plenty of milk and treated kindly." Colonel Bowers promised he would see that the mess cook would do right by them. Several times later in the telegraph hut Horace Porter noticed Lincoln fondling the kittens. "He would wipe their eyes tenderly with his handkerchief, stroke their smooth coats, and listen to them purring in gratitude to him." A curious sight it was, thought Porter, "at an army headquarters upon the eve of a great military crisis in the nation's history, to see the hand which had affixed the signature to the Emancipation Proclamation and had signed the commissions... from the general-in-chief to the lowest lieutenant, tenderly caressing three stray kittens."

With malice toward none; with charity for all. All, to include even three orphaned kittens. What a lesson this is and what extraordinary insight into a man who changed the course of history because he believed with all his heart in doing what was right.

With love for all,

Noel
-----
Acts of compassion are born and take shape in the privacy of your own conscience. No one can shape it for you.
- Rich DeVos

Click here to read the complete text of Lincoln's Second Inaugural Address.

One Man, One Bear, One Message

Cat-Dad recently brought to my attention the passing last month of an exceptional man, Thomas Doerflein, who worked at the Berlin Zoo in Berlin, Germany. What made him exceptional was he'd dedicated a significant portion of his life over the past 18 months to caring for an orphaned polar bear cub named Knut.

As the story of Knut and Thomas spread, they soon acquired an international following of people who marveled at this relationship between man and bear. The comments in multiple languages posted to Knut's Blog give testimony to the extent of his fans.

Why would one man care so much for an orphaned animal? Is it because polar bears inherently are attractive to humans? Or because they stand on the verge of extinction because of humans? Not so.

I believe inside every human is a latent desire to fulfill the command of stewardship of this earth and its resources, and to respect all life. Thomas Dorflein was just one man, and Knut was just one little bear. But together their example touched thousands of lives who, regardless of color, nationality or political views, are bounded together by this driving internal characteristic of compassion for another.

With love for all,

Noel