Kipling's first new companion joined our family about 11 months after the fire.
She was a one-year old adoptee who came as a complete suprise to me, while Kipling and I were in Texas.
I was on my way back from David's house and had promised to get a leash for a friend's new puppy. On my way home, I decided I needed to go back and hole up again instead.
I was feeling very agoraphobic at that point.
Then this little voice...you've heard it before...kind of said, 'What else have you got to do? Go on...It'll be good for you."
I said, 'Well what the heck..'...and took the turn to the big pet store.
I'd never seen anyone bigger than a chinchlla that wasn't human in that store, the couple of times I'd been to it to get Kipling things, and I didn't find a leash that was right, so I was leaving.
Then I spied this little, round, solid grey cat near the big panoramic window, in a big cage, just sitting there, so forlorn looking.
I went over immediately to meet her, and she looked up with the most beautiful, vivid, gentle green eyes that I'd ever seen.
I crouched to talk with her a little, and she had the teeniest, most confused, stressed, little mewwwwl...it went straight to my heart.
A clerk came over and began telling me that this little cat had been found living with a street person, very scared, and the person had turned her over to the SPCA because she became pregnant.
She delivered 4 kittens, who were all ultimately adopted away from her, but no one wanted her.
When her time came and went, she was given a second chance at the pet store.
Her price was $75, because she was spayed, and had had her shots.
But in that area of Texas, stray cats abound. People treat most of the castoffs like vermin, that I saw.
Who's going to pay that kind of money for a plain little grey cat, when they can get a fun, free little kitten from the paper or a neighbor instead, huh?
They can always just throw it out once it gets too old and they are tired of the teething, and the cost of vet care.
Just like someone did to her. And it's a crime, in my eyes.
I feltso sorry for her. I saw that she was as sad as I was.
Then....lo and behold...what happens?
I look up as the clerk is talking, telling me that the little cat had been there over three weeks, and didn't look like she was going to be adopted.
A little piece of paper was stuck in the bars of her cage....I looked at it, and could not believe my eyes!
Her name was "Kathleen".
MY name!
WHO names a CAT "Kathleen"?
Of course....what could I do?
I felt, if I didn't take that little soul home with me, it would be spitting on Providence.
I had so little, but I could not leave her there.
I took the scared, little thing home with me, and I tell you, Kipling adores that shy, skittish little girl, and so do I.
She seems gruff at first, but she is sweet and gentle as they come.
I've never once regretted taking this gentle, little soul home with me.
She now mothers the kittens because Aimee gave up on them after she got spayed.
And speaking of Aimee....She's SO much like Timorie in nature, but in coat, she is a long-haired, grey & white.
A neighbor girl brought her to me, telling me her sister in law kept the little street kitten in the bathroom, abused her, and only fed her a hotdog every couple of days.
Of COURSE I took her in! *laughing at myself here..*s*
And I love her so very much....she is also shy, but CRAVES her human friend's touch, and every visitor.
THEN...*smiles deeply*...Tommy came.
I was driving out to try to make phone arrangements last year, and spotted this little bony, mackerel tabby adolescent, about 4-5 months of age, every rib and hipbone protruding from the little hide, and just sitting very destitute, in the middle of a busy city concrete sidewalk, with hordes of pedestrians passing him by without a look.
He was obviously starving. Every bone showed.
But what struck me, was that look on his face.
HOW could people miss that expression of bewilderment, lost, hungry...and not see a child's hungry eyes watching people pass him by without a glance?
I pulled over and stopped traffic, flung open my door and hurried to him, fearing he would run out into heavy traffic before I could catch him and assure him he was safe with me
He started to run away, and I quick-dropped into a crouch, and called urgently, softly, a little cat-trill to call him over, and it worked.
He stopped and looked back, and let me lift him.
He is the most wonderful cat, and how odd that I would find him, exactly as I found my big Berkeley-Oompa-Loompa, 12 years before, on the corner of Main and Berkeley in South Norfolk, VA.
I adore him with my whole heart.
Well....AIMEE(*rolls eyes..a wry, embarrassed grin*)...got pregnant before I could afford her spay, about two months after I got her....TOMMY...*rolls eyes again, shaking head..*s*...was let out of the spare bedroom where I was aterrnating both of them, by the neighbor who was supposed to be "watching" them when I went off to visit my son for a couple of days...
(Here is my Ryan when he was 6...he's grown now, and an Airman Basic serving our country
*proud little smile...*s*)
A couple of months later, I assisted Aimee with delivering her first litter, a gang of seven beautiful little brutes.
They are my life here now, I imagine you can guess, and I adore each precious little individual who lives with me.
And TOMMY became insistent on spending time washing the tiny creatures, cuddling them, playing with them.
Cats are not known to be nurturing fathers at all. In fact, in the wild, often the males will kill kittens, so the females are extremely protective over them. But TOMMY, strange as he is, began caring for them at a very early age, and they love him so much. They follow him everywhere, and he just KNOWS he is the King now! *laughs*...BUT....he knows that Kipling is the true Boss here, but he isn't egotistical about it. Kipling only calls Tommy on the carpet if he goes too far trying to play with him.
Which is something Tommy is too wise to venture, sweet as Kipling is.
Kipling once rode the back of a pitbull who encroached into our yard, all the way down the street as I chased after him frantically, fearing the dog would turn on him suddenly.
He didn't.
But the dog also never came back to that yard. *lol!
As for the little ones (now 6 months of age and all spayed and neutered with shots and worming, well-fed and mentally-stimulated and happy)....There's:
Tiger Boots...one of the most attached to me besides Kukla. A little nut who loves to lick feet and hands and hang out with his people.
He's stocky and lithe all at once, a mackerel tabby with big, white boots (how'd ya guess?..lol!), a bib and big, round, bright, golden eyes, with teal centers. Hes just a big kid.
Sage...A VERY serious little fellow...Looks like Tiger Boots except that he is a light grey mackerel, and extremely smart, and cautious. He avoids most people like the plague, but boy, does he like to play SOCCER!? He's really extraordinarily talented. He kind of dribbles little plastic jingle balls with both front paws like a soccer player, and carries the ball where he wants to play with it. He actually reasons out where he wants it to go.
Siberia...is one beautiful cat!
He is dark, mackerel tabby all over...NO white, and long, gorgeous, wild fur.
He is VERY silly, and is fond of catching my feet when I am trying to bring out their trays of food, leaping for it wildly as I bring it out, rolling on the floor risking his neck to grab at my legs...*s*
He is extremely acrobatic, as is...
Berkeley!...YES, he was named at birth after my Ooompa-Loompa.
He is a thin little, Siamese-y marbled tabby, big splotches of black on grey, and VERY thin and racy, smart and agile, and is SO very sensitive, a little shy, and very sweet.
His expression is always that of worry and/or wonder, but its really just the way his little precious face is...*s*
Inky...or as I like to call him, Inky-Slinky-Stinky-Winkie...*laughs*...Now if that doesn't make you gag, what will?
BUT, he is SO beautiful, long, slinky, elegant and black all over, but for one round circle on his chest, and on his lower tummy. This one is such a love....very mannerly and athletic.
Princess Monstrous Jade...The only little girl of seven, and the most lovely, petite, doll-like little one, too...She is also long-haired, grey and white, but she is extra-lovely...HUGE, green eyes, and a coat of the softest, featherlight satin you ever felt.
She loves to be loved on and cuddled by adults.
All are afraid of children in particular...and of new people at first...
EXCEPT for...
Kukla...which I am told by my Cryptie-Linguist son, means "doll" in Russian.
I have never met a cat like Kukla.
He is a cuddling, loving angel...
If I didn't know better, I would swear he IS Monster returned.
He is constantly by my side, on my lap, wanting to be carried, touching my face so gently when i cry, looking deep into my eyes with as empathetic expression as I only ever saw in little Monstrous' eyes.
He is a real lover, and calm, and so, so, so sensitive.
The crime of arson was done by one of our own...
A Vietnam veteran...
I lost both my biological father and my Stepdad, as well as my Grandad to our country, and my only surviving son is serving his country in the Air Force, and is being sent to Saudi Arabia in December of this year, 2002...and still, there has been no real help for us from our government.
I could not tell my son the desperate straits I was in, and worry him that way...
He makes only an Airman Basics' salary and is only 19. He could not help, and I could not strain him in active duty by asking for his help at the time.
But, we have survived great need and pain, with God's help, and the few friends who have known and understood our plight.
Those who would not, or would have mocked and jabbed in the limitations of their small-mindedness since this fire occured, I have not shared all of this with before now, in protecting myself and my little family.
But now, I am strong and those people cannot touch me now, for I know that some good has come of this tragedy, and that the spirits of my lost ones are not lost, but are with me, and long past the pain of their demise.
Another blessing occured as a result of this fire, and yet, more come.
But those are stories for later..*s*
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