Jeana’s Journal

I am not much of a cat person, they shed, they don’t take instruction well, they think they are in charge, and they shed (did I say that already). Anyway, our faithful old Fluffy cat died of old age several years ago and our household was finally cat-less. My husband and I breathed a sigh of relief and said “never again.”

Looking back, it seems that all of the cats we ever owned chose us instead of us choosing them. And then, almost two years ago, it happened again. My husband stepped out of the front door at exactly the wrong (or right) moment and heard faint, tiny mewing coming from across the street. There she was crumpled, dirty, barely alive, and about three weeks old creeping along in the dirt. A feral cat in the neighborhood had rejected this kitten from her “nest” and she was meant to die. My husband scooped up the tiny bit of fur and delivered her into my hands while he headed to the pet store to buy kitten formula and a feeding syringe. For the next hour while we waited, this kitten (a tiny ball of long fur cupped in my hands) and I became one. I remember thinking, “If I am destined to have another cat, I wish that for once I could have chosen a nice orange tabby. Or, a cat with pretty markings would have been nice.” But there she was and there was not much orange or pretty about her.

She had a couple of neurological problems that she later outgrew. Her back legs would tip over unexpectedly while the front stayed standing, and she had a funny tilt to her head, as if the world was crooked and by tipping her head to the side she could straighten it out.

This little Pepper cat and I have been constant companions since that day. Wherever I go in the house, she comes along. From room to room she follows me. She always knows where I am and what I am doing. When I am at the computer, she curls up at my feet. When I am at my stitching, she is inches away in her cat cubicle. At night, she is always touching me while we sleep. She has a few bad habits like an appetite for thread (which nearly killed her once—but that is another story), a tendency to leap into my lap at the most inconvenient times, and an unbending desire to be in the middle of my work (where she is never allowed to be). Since her play has always been with people instead of other cats, she plays fetch like a dog (with her favorite small mice toys as the ball) and she plays hide and seek with my husband. She is a quirky little one and, at this point, I can’t imagine life without her. Now, if we could just do something about the shedding……..

I am not much of a cat person, they shed, they don’t take instruction well, they think they are in charge, and they shed (did I say that already). Anyway, our faithful old Fluffy cat died of old age several years ago and our household was finally cat-less. My husband and I breathed a sigh of relief and said “never again.”

Looking back, it seems that all of the cats we ever owned chose us instead of us choosing them. And then, almost two years ago, it happened again. My husband stepped out of the front door at exactly the wrong (or right) moment and heard faint, tiny mewing coming from across the street. There she was crumpled, dirty, barely alive, and about three weeks old creeping along in the dirt. A feral cat in the neighborhood had rejected this kitten from her “nest” and she was meant to die. My husband scooped up the tiny bit of fur and delivered her into my hands while he headed to the pet store to buy kitten formula and a feeding syringe. For the next hour while we waited, this kitten (a tiny ball of long fur cupped in my hands) and I became one. I remember thinking, “If I am destined to have another cat, I wish that for once I could have chosen a nice orange tabby. Or, a cat with pretty markings would have been nice.” But there she was and there was not much orange or pretty about her.

She had a couple of neurological problems that she later outgrew. Her back legs would tip over unexpectedly while the front stayed standing, and she had a funny tilt to her head, as if the world was crooked and by tipping her head to the side she could straighten it out.

This little Pepper cat and I have been constant companions since that day. Wherever I go in the house, she comes along. From room to room she follows me. She always knows where I am and what I am doing. When I am at the computer, she curls up at my feet. When I am at my stitching, she is inches away in her cat cubicle. At night, she is always touching me while we sleep. She has a few bad habits like an appetite for thread (which nearly killed her once—but that is another story), a tendency to leap into my lap at the most inconvenient times, and an unbending desire to be in the middle of my work (where she is never allowed to be). Since her play has always been with people instead of other cats, she plays fetch like a dog (with her favorite small mice toys as the ball) and she plays hide and seek with my husband. She is a quirky little one and, at this point, I can’t imagine life without her. Now, if we could just do something about the shedding……..