Cat Whiskers and Tales

Trying to teach a 13-year-old cat new tricks takes a lot of patience. I got it in my head this winter that I should try taking Ginger outdoors for walks when it warms up – in an effort to help her shed the extra pounds she put on since fall. When I adopted her in August, I received a harness along with her things from the previous owner, so I assumed that she was used to taking walks, or at least had gotten out once in a while. In fact, I also heard that she used to be an outdoor/indoor cat and that's why she still had her claws. All of that information sounded like the perfect recipe for taking her out-of-doors for exploration around the city neighborhood.

Yesterday the temps reached the 40s, so I got Ginger into her harness and attached the leash. Mind you, this took probably 20 minutes, coaxing her, chasing her and giving her treats so she’d let me put the thing on her. You’d think I was torturing her. When I had finally strapped her in, she glued herself to the wall in a bundle of fur, refusing to budge. Apparently, she thinks the harness is a strait jacket and her limbs are paralyzed in it. I decided to just pick her up and take her outside. 

We went down the stairs, opened the front door and stepped out into the fresh air and sunshine. Oh did it feel great! But Ginger leaned back against me, her eyes wide, her heart beating hard against my hand and her nostrils flaring in and out with all the smells. She shivered, whether it was from fear or cold, I would guess the former. In an instant, I had become, not her torturer, but her fortress of safety, from whose arms she could dare to peak out at the world. I didn’t have to worry about having her on a harness and leash – she wasn’t going to be doing any leaping out of my arms. Finally, I set her down beside me on the front steps, praising her for being such a brave girl. But she instantly turned back to me, putting her paws on my knee and then on my shoulder, begging to come “up” again. And then, when that wasn't good enough, she turned back to the door, reared up on her hind legs and heaved herself, arms and paws, against the door, letting out a whelping “meoooooowww.”

Ah, well. Maybe she just needs a few more times of "getting outside of her skin" to acquire a new habit and pastime, as I need to re-acquire that little, old writing habit of discipline. Putting on that old habit again scratches on the skin, like a rough wool robe, but once I've worn it a few times again, it will get easier to put on, just a part of me, grounding in a way. As for Ginger, I will extend her mercy and wait for spring and warmer days before teaching her those lessons.

In the meantime, she's sharing some sage life advice with me: 

Don't be embarrassed to take long and frequent naps. They're good for you.

Foster curiosity. It keeps life interesting!

Love one another.

Hm, what's this? "Shorter Christian Prayer..."

You weren't praying it, Mom, so I thought I would!

Resting in the spirit

(Honestly, I did not stage these pictures. I found Ginger curled up with this Liturgy of the Hours prayer book on the day I pulled it out to remind myself to get back into that habit.)

Obviously, I couldn't do it without her. 

Bringing Home Ginger

The day came that I've been wishing for and anticipating for a loooong time! I brought home a cat on Thursday night. My last blog post recounted how good things can come out of tragic events, and Ginger was one of those blessings that came to me out of an unfortunate incident. She was rescued from a house fire.

I first met her at the ballroom dance studio and dubbed her “Ginger Rogers” ever since. Before I saw her, I heard her little meow and saw one of the dancers suddenly prostrate himself on the floor to talk to her from across the room. I walked around the corner to meet a sweet-looking face and questioning eyes looking up at me. It was instant love. From that moment, my heart expanded and expanded and expanded! And when I heard her story, I thought, yes, Ginger! I’ll take you home.

It was one week before this that I had witnessed a house fire happen in my own neighborhood and been moved by it, so it seemed the event almost prompted my empathy more. Ginger’s owner had to move into low-income housing where pets aren’t allowed. That night I could hardly sleep - I was so excited with the possibility of adopting her.

When I went to Mass the next morning, the first reading recalled the infant Moses being found and drawn out of the water and adopted: 

Now a certain man of the house of Levi married a Levite woman, who conceived and bore a son. Seeing that who was a goodly child, she hid him for three months. When she could hide him no longer, she took a papyrus basket, daubed it with bitumen and pitch, and putting the child in it, placed it among the reeds on the river bank. His sister stationed herself at a distance to find out what would happen to him.

Pharaoh’s daughter came down to the river to bathe, while her maids walked along the river bank. Noticing the basket among the reeds, she sent her handmaid to fetch it. On opening it, she looked and lo, there was a baby boy, crying! She was moved with pity for him and said, “It is one of the Hebrew’s children.” Then his sister asked Pharaoh’s daughter,” Shall I go and call one of the Hebrew women to nurse the child for you?” “Yes, do so,” she answered. So the maiden went and called the child’s own mother. Pharaoh’s daughter said to her, “Take this child and nurse it for me, and I will repay you.” The woman therefore took the child and nursed it. When the child grew, she brought him to Pharaoh’s daughter, who adopted him as her son and called him Moses; for she said, “I drew him out of the water.”  

(Ex. 2:1-10).

I heard this and felt it was a sign. This cat, who showed up so unexpectedly, was like baby Moses in the basket, a gift from God waiting for me to reach out and embrace. I thought of how Moses grew up to bring deliverance to his own people from out under the Egyptians' rule and slavery, and how this cat would deliver me, too, from the loneliness I was experiencing. God provided a miracle in a basket with Moses, but he also provided along with it the resources Pharaoh’s daughter needed to sustain him (his mother as nurse). Ginger came home to me accompanied by free food, a pet carrier, litter box, litter genie, bed, cat toys and more.

My dance instructor who has five other cats of her own has been keeping her for the past month. She is so relieved to have me take her and says all Ginger wants is someone to bond with and love, and she needs a place where she can be the “only cat princess” in the house. “She is so sweet and loving. I just think she’s perfect for you.”

Episode Two: A Talking Cat

Ginger and I had an interesting first night together with both of us taking “cat naps” on and off all night. She had so many new smells and sounds to get used to, and I had to get used to sleeping with another breathing creature in bed. She perked her ears at every outdoor noise coming in with the breeze through the open window. Occasionally, she’d jump down from the bed and go exploring in the dark; then return and meow, meow, meow at me to tell me all about it. I said, “Okay, Ginger. You’re fine, Ginger” and scratched her head. Then she’d spring up onto the bed beside me, comforted to have found me again, and after a few more mellow meows, stretch herself out and start purring, the sound of it like a miniscule motorcycle engine. And we’d both sleep for a while, until the next time she bounced back down and came back again – each time like a joyful reunion.

Then today she gave me quite a scare. This little talker got so silent for so long, hiding behind the couch, that suddenly I wondered where she was. I spent half an hour calling her name and searching high and low in every possible hiding place in this house. But cats are the masters at hide-and-seek. Turns out she had found a way to crawl inside the sofa and was quietly purring from somewhere deep within the cushions where I couldn’t reach her! I finally coaxed her out with some food, so relieved that game was over. 

I'm sure we will have many more adventures, this little dancing princess and I. But both of us couldn't be happier!