A feral colony of three sibling kittens born in my garden this summer, have decided to stay on for the winter.
The black kitty I named Coal. From a very young age he’s been the most gregarious. The kitchen window looks out on my garden (not pretty in winter). When I walk in the kitchen, Coal jumps from his napping spot on my jacuzzi onto the window ledge. He is captivated by me, regardless of what I’m doing. Anytime I’m cooking is his favorite time to visit.
Recently he’s taken to high-fiving me through the glass then walking back and forth rubbing against the window. He’s now “trained me” to pet him through the glass. This goes on until I’m tired. Not once a day but rather each time he sees me – including after dark when he’s visible only by his topaz eyes.
As a result, my kitchen window is dotted with nose-prints from Coal and fingerprints from me. It’s messy but I love the connection we have and look forward to seeing him each day.
Messy window vs visits from Coal. Coal wins. Windows can be easily cleaned.On my deck when he was very tinyCoal and his siblings, Toffefay and Stormy
My fancy zip-up, ultra suede puzzle mat seems to be irresistible to Biscotti. He struck so many cute poses that I abandoned the puzzle to take these photos. I mean, how do you resist this sweet boy?
Pets provide companionship and entertainment but also unconditional love. They sense when you need them to be close.
During those first months after losing Spence I chose to be alone while working through my pain. My cats, Tipper and Biscotti (aka “The Biscuit”) were a godsend. Already the most lovable cats, they snuggled with me for hours every day. They didn’t expect much beyond food, water and a clean litter box. Caring for them was self care and therapeutic for me; they too had lost Spence. Hospice had set up a bed for him in that last week and Tipper and Biscotti provided him comfort in those final days. Sensing the gravity and sadness, they calmly slept next to him for hours on end and were there when he drew his last breath.
Self care can take many forms; sharing our loss helped me to connect to the nurturing part of myself. It was small but it was a purpose.
Days and weeks went by when one day I caught myself singing and dancing to some song while making a snack. Food, music and dancing in my kitchen had been such a natural thing for me in the past. I don’t recall the song (but I remember the sun was shining brightly that day) and it struck me how long it had been yet how natural it felt. As time moved forward, those moments became more frequent and less noteworthy. The cats and I still had our snuggle time every day but they also returned to their cat tree, their “Cirque du Soleil” antics and play time.
Last year I discovered the most amazing true story of a cat named Bob who saved the life of the man he adopted. The book by James Bowen, made the New York Times bestseller list, was on the bestseller list in England for 52 consecutive weeks and is currently being published in 30 different countries around the world. An incredible story of redemption it explores the bond between a man down on his luck and the cat who found him. Truly heartwarming it’s a must-read for every cat lover and frankly, everyone else. One of my all-time favorite books, I blogged about the story last year A Street Cat Named Bob.
At that time, I’d learned a movie was being made and the cat playing Bob was none other than Bob himself.
The Movie
I started following A Street Cat Named Bob on Facebook. Anxiously awaiting the film’s US release date, I planned to see it on opening day – November 18th, 2016. I’d asked my Mom to go, then looked up showtimes. I couldn’t find it at any theater yet Facebook posts were announcing it’s release. “What’s happening?” I thought.
Digging deeper, I found out what countless other had discovered – the movie was opening in only a few select locations around the US – and none were near me. I was crushed, my hopes dashed. I logged into Amazon to see if I could pre-order the DVD and set my Watchlist for any news of a streaming release. Then, as we must do as adults, I let it go with the knowledge that I would see it….someday.
Finally, a few weeks ago whilst in the grip of the flu a moment of happiness came my way when I found I could finally stream the movie via Amazon Video. I felt better already.
I gathered Tipper and Biscotti, a pile of pillows and blankets and we settled in on the sofa to watch this long anticipated movie. It was everything I/we hoped. A beautiful ginger, Bob is not only an incredible feline but is an excellent actor as were the supporting players (after all, clearly Bob was the “star”).
If you haven’t read the book, I recommend doing so then seeing the movie.
Don’t we all need stories that leave us feeling happy, warm and fuzzy these days? 😸
