I decided to lose the political agenda about Israel and Gaza and Gilad Shalit for a time. I couldn’t sleep.
So, I am diverting to an entirely different topic: Cats.
I have cats. That is in the plural. I always knew that dogs had a human heart. Actually, they cling to the human heart, as I’ve been told, as required by their Hebrew name, kelev, which means 'as a heart' or 'like a heart' (http://www.hebrewworld.com/Hebrewdog.html ).
But, since having cats, I have come to believe that cats can actually own your heart. Cats dig deeper. Some cats, that is, such as mine.
Unfortunately, some people are blessed with an unusual ability to connect to animals. I have known, since childhood, that I am one of these. All it takes is a look in the eyes, and I am hooked. And this does not only go for dogs and cats. I have been able to connect, sometimes even momentarily, to fleeting geckos in my yard and house, and butterflies. Once a beautiful monarch butterfly was floating around my head for a few moments, eventually landing on a leaf inches before me. She stayed, eyeing me carefully, for more than a minute (for what reason I don’t know).
And a beautiful fluffy black chicken that we had for about a year. Someone gave Lovey to me when she was a tiny chick, and I (fearing the additives and toxins of conventional chicken feed) raised her on raw organic oatmeal and all the grubs, bugs and worms she could find in my yard. She followed me around like a puppy and came when I called her by her name. She became huge and her feathers were so incredibly soft and fluffy on that oatmeal that even my kids were impressed (“hey, ma, you should sell this stuff … it’s better than all the shampoos out there…”). She was more than twice the size of Mitzi (my only cat at that time) who used to watch her constantly but was scared to pounce. I kept a watchful eye, nonetheless.
We finally gave her to a farm in North Miami. I was afraid that she would fly over the fence and be eaten by my neighbor’s dog (which happened to her sister within the first week I had them). I didn’t have the proper cage for her, and she needed to be able to walk around my yard. It’s over a decade, and I miss her still.
Back to the cats: When we moved to Florida, I lived with my three young children in Miami Beach, and in the backyard of the apartment house there were cats. Lots of cats. Of course, having young kids for me was an invitation to befriend every animal anywhere, and these cats were no exception. To make matters worse, the super of the apartment was a horribly nasty young man who had pit bulls and he liked to watch them kill the cats. I became a (reluctant) animal activist and reported this to the police. Big mistake. One day blood dripped onto my 5 year old son while he played in the yard; a dead cat (courtesy of our super) was strung up in a tree directly above the play area. Wonderful. We moved to a house in North Miami Beach. But I also took Mitzi, a beautiful black and white kitten who used to stay by me when I raked the leaves and tried to plant some flowers in that yard. That was 15 years ago. We have her still.
After taking in two stray dogs and Mitzi between 1994 and 2005, we met Mimi, an emaciated pregnant cat who came to our home about three days before hurricane Wilma. For those of us in North Miami Beach, Wilma was the grand-daddy of all hurricanes (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hurricane_Wilma ). I had two huge 50 year old trees, a beautiful mango and a sapodilla. Wilma flattened them both within seconds. The hurricane took my entire back and front porch and parts of my roof. But somehow during the storm Mimi gave birth in my very small wooden shed, which remained somewhat intact. My son found her after the storm, in the shed with three tiny newborn kittens on a wet leaf mat crawling with worms. We took her and the kittens into the garage.
Those kittens and Mimi took our heart. My children, who in 2005 were 18, 16, and 12, were the perfect age to understand about all things ‘animal’. They were able to relate this to their science lessons from school, but they had never seen this up close in real life. They watched in awe as Mimi cleaned her kittens, played and disciplined them when they got older. It was so beautiful how she took up space in our garage and simply lay on the floor, swishing her tail every so often, her tiny kittens going wild over the sudden movements as if pouncing on a mouse. All G-d’s creatures became a theme in our house. My kids became very spiritual, talking about how beautiful all these creatures were, how perfectly created, even to the point of how perfectly they taught their young. Our awareness of the Divine was intense.
Even though I had spayed my Mitzi, I was reluctant to spay Mimi because she was nursing. I also didn’t want to take her away from her kittens for the full 24 hours required. So my reluctance turned into another pregnancy within three months. And then another pregnancy a few months after that. That is how I became the reluctant cat lady. Leave it up to the incredible ability to proliferate among cats, unaware to me. She got pregnant right before our eyes, again and again. Much to my later regret.
I have cats. That is in the plural. I always knew that dogs had a human heart. Actually, they cling to the human heart, as I’ve been told, as required by their Hebrew name, kelev, which means 'as a heart' or 'like a heart' (http://www.hebrewworld.com/Hebrewdog.html ).
But, since having cats, I have come to believe that cats can actually own your heart. Cats dig deeper. Some cats, that is, such as mine.
Unfortunately, some people are blessed with an unusual ability to connect to animals. I have known, since childhood, that I am one of these. All it takes is a look in the eyes, and I am hooked. And this does not only go for dogs and cats. I have been able to connect, sometimes even momentarily, to fleeting geckos in my yard and house, and butterflies. Once a beautiful monarch butterfly was floating around my head for a few moments, eventually landing on a leaf inches before me. She stayed, eyeing me carefully, for more than a minute (for what reason I don’t know).
And a beautiful fluffy black chicken that we had for about a year. Someone gave Lovey to me when she was a tiny chick, and I (fearing the additives and toxins of conventional chicken feed) raised her on raw organic oatmeal and all the grubs, bugs and worms she could find in my yard. She followed me around like a puppy and came when I called her by her name. She became huge and her feathers were so incredibly soft and fluffy on that oatmeal that even my kids were impressed (“hey, ma, you should sell this stuff … it’s better than all the shampoos out there…”). She was more than twice the size of Mitzi (my only cat at that time) who used to watch her constantly but was scared to pounce. I kept a watchful eye, nonetheless.
We finally gave her to a farm in North Miami. I was afraid that she would fly over the fence and be eaten by my neighbor’s dog (which happened to her sister within the first week I had them). I didn’t have the proper cage for her, and she needed to be able to walk around my yard. It’s over a decade, and I miss her still.
Back to the cats: When we moved to Florida, I lived with my three young children in Miami Beach, and in the backyard of the apartment house there were cats. Lots of cats. Of course, having young kids for me was an invitation to befriend every animal anywhere, and these cats were no exception. To make matters worse, the super of the apartment was a horribly nasty young man who had pit bulls and he liked to watch them kill the cats. I became a (reluctant) animal activist and reported this to the police. Big mistake. One day blood dripped onto my 5 year old son while he played in the yard; a dead cat (courtesy of our super) was strung up in a tree directly above the play area. Wonderful. We moved to a house in North Miami Beach. But I also took Mitzi, a beautiful black and white kitten who used to stay by me when I raked the leaves and tried to plant some flowers in that yard. That was 15 years ago. We have her still.
After taking in two stray dogs and Mitzi between 1994 and 2005, we met Mimi, an emaciated pregnant cat who came to our home about three days before hurricane Wilma. For those of us in North Miami Beach, Wilma was the grand-daddy of all hurricanes (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hurricane_Wilma ). I had two huge 50 year old trees, a beautiful mango and a sapodilla. Wilma flattened them both within seconds. The hurricane took my entire back and front porch and parts of my roof. But somehow during the storm Mimi gave birth in my very small wooden shed, which remained somewhat intact. My son found her after the storm, in the shed with three tiny newborn kittens on a wet leaf mat crawling with worms. We took her and the kittens into the garage.
Those kittens and Mimi took our heart. My children, who in 2005 were 18, 16, and 12, were the perfect age to understand about all things ‘animal’. They were able to relate this to their science lessons from school, but they had never seen this up close in real life. They watched in awe as Mimi cleaned her kittens, played and disciplined them when they got older. It was so beautiful how she took up space in our garage and simply lay on the floor, swishing her tail every so often, her tiny kittens going wild over the sudden movements as if pouncing on a mouse. All G-d’s creatures became a theme in our house. My kids became very spiritual, talking about how beautiful all these creatures were, how perfectly created, even to the point of how perfectly they taught their young. Our awareness of the Divine was intense.
Even though I had spayed my Mitzi, I was reluctant to spay Mimi because she was nursing. I also didn’t want to take her away from her kittens for the full 24 hours required. So my reluctance turned into another pregnancy within three months. And then another pregnancy a few months after that. That is how I became the reluctant cat lady. Leave it up to the incredible ability to proliferate among cats, unaware to me. She got pregnant right before our eyes, again and again. Much to my later regret.
Mimi gave us three kittens her first litter, two her second, and five her third. All within a little more than one year. It doesn’t suffice to say ‘now I know’… I wish I had known before. Live and learn.
Finally, I had to bring in all the cats and kittens to have them neutered and spayed. Thank G-d there is a low cost Planned Pethood in my area, something that I found out about accidentally. Vet costs for spaying and neutering range from $70-$200 for one cat. It’s simply outrageous. A woman I don’t know and haven’t met since told me about Planned Pethood. It probably saved my life.
I don’t believe in shelters that put down healthy animals. I refused to bring the kittens to any of the shelters in Florida because the ones that are no-kill have no room and generally get their animals from the kill shelters. They gave me no choice but to take my cats to the kill shelters and pray that they get adopted or chosen by the no kill shelters within 2 weeks. Slim chance. I said no, they stay with me.
Finally, I had to bring in all the cats and kittens to have them neutered and spayed. Thank G-d there is a low cost Planned Pethood in my area, something that I found out about accidentally. Vet costs for spaying and neutering range from $70-$200 for one cat. It’s simply outrageous. A woman I don’t know and haven’t met since told me about Planned Pethood. It probably saved my life.
I don’t believe in shelters that put down healthy animals. I refused to bring the kittens to any of the shelters in Florida because the ones that are no-kill have no room and generally get their animals from the kill shelters. They gave me no choice but to take my cats to the kill shelters and pray that they get adopted or chosen by the no kill shelters within 2 weeks. Slim chance. I said no, they stay with me.
Over the years, my beautiful orange cat, Max, a kitten from the first litter, disappeared. He was a real macho man, who, even after being neutered, screamed to go out and sprayed in the house. He was gorgeous, long fluffy orange hair, huge green eyes. I still pray that some kind person or family took him in. He was a relentless wanderer, couldn’t be caged.
I gave one of the kittens from the third litter to a technician at Planned Pethood, who was amazed at her deep orange color. She said she was the most beautiful kitten she’d ever seen. Mimi was a beautiful orange, black, and white calico, and all her kittens were beautiful. I was grateful to have found a good home for that deep orange kitten.
Also from the third litter; Velcro, a tiny all black kitten who clung to me for dear life and cried constantly at the door when I didn’t let him in. He and his mom Mimi disappeared the same day. I was frightened it might have been bunchers, or a woman I suspected was a buncher (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Buncher ). I didn’t sleep well for weeks after they left. I haven’t seen either of them since.
And a completely all white cat with blue eyes. I named him Ice. He was completely obsessed with me. I don’t know how it happens but there are some animals who are on my same wavelength. This gorgeous creature was killed by a car in front of my house while he was running towards me one day when I came outside. My heart has never healed.
So, there you have it. I have become a reluctant cat woman not of my own volition, but because I have found cats irresistible. I now keep four of Mimi’s remaining kittens (now five years old) inside at all times; two additional ones I allow out but they stay close to home; and Mitzi, who is not Mimi’s kitten but was my first. Mitzi is 15 years old now, and I recently noticed she has no teeth. She, too, stays close to home and lives mainly on my enclosed back porch, rebuilt after Hurricane Wilma. Lately she is having a hard time walking and getting up on things. I will have her until the end.
All in all, I have seven cats. I have also begun feeding a tiny stray cat in front of our house. She has beautiful eyes.
Dogs may cling, but cats will steal your heart. And, of course, this can also be said about chickens. Or maybe, it’s just something about me.
I gave one of the kittens from the third litter to a technician at Planned Pethood, who was amazed at her deep orange color. She said she was the most beautiful kitten she’d ever seen. Mimi was a beautiful orange, black, and white calico, and all her kittens were beautiful. I was grateful to have found a good home for that deep orange kitten.
Also from the third litter; Velcro, a tiny all black kitten who clung to me for dear life and cried constantly at the door when I didn’t let him in. He and his mom Mimi disappeared the same day. I was frightened it might have been bunchers, or a woman I suspected was a buncher (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Buncher ). I didn’t sleep well for weeks after they left. I haven’t seen either of them since.
And a completely all white cat with blue eyes. I named him Ice. He was completely obsessed with me. I don’t know how it happens but there are some animals who are on my same wavelength. This gorgeous creature was killed by a car in front of my house while he was running towards me one day when I came outside. My heart has never healed.
So, there you have it. I have become a reluctant cat woman not of my own volition, but because I have found cats irresistible. I now keep four of Mimi’s remaining kittens (now five years old) inside at all times; two additional ones I allow out but they stay close to home; and Mitzi, who is not Mimi’s kitten but was my first. Mitzi is 15 years old now, and I recently noticed she has no teeth. She, too, stays close to home and lives mainly on my enclosed back porch, rebuilt after Hurricane Wilma. Lately she is having a hard time walking and getting up on things. I will have her until the end.
All in all, I have seven cats. I have also begun feeding a tiny stray cat in front of our house. She has beautiful eyes.
Dogs may cling, but cats will steal your heart. And, of course, this can also be said about chickens. Or maybe, it’s just something about me.
