It’s a Start with Kitty Taming!

I am so excited! It took all of my being to remain calm and quiet at the most beautiful sight tonight! The girls BOTH came out to eat while I was sitting nearby. A first!

Last night Willow showed her face to me for a moment although she wouldn’t eat in front of me, and earlier today my mom saw Poppy go up to sit on the top of the stairs while my mom was in the basement, both good steps in the right direction.

But tonight was the first of many goals, and it is now achieved. It’s taken one week. Praying the rest might go a little quicker. It was a long week.

This is a big step in a long process, but so very glad to see progress. Of course, their first trustworthy human paved the way for today’s good news. Thank you, Caitlyn!

Moral of the Story: Don’t Give Up!

Poppy

Willow

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Joy’s Toy

My Joy kitty will be 13 this year. She has played with toys on and off over the years, but she’s really taken to them in the last six months or so. She moves them around the house at random, usually between the living room, dining room, and her (my) bedroom.

At Christmas she became obsessed with a Santa hand puppet my mom puts out for the kids each year. She was so taken with it that we’ve allowed her to keep it when we packed up the Christmas decorations. It’s about half her size, but she carries it around with great pride.

I don’t get it, but whatever floats her boat and keeps Joy joyful is good by me.

PS: She doesn’t yet know about the kitties in the basement. Merry knows somethings going on, but she’s not quite sure what just yet.

Moral of the Story: Live and let live when no one is harmed. Live life with Joy.

 

Two Loves – Still Seeking Home … But

But I couldn’t do it. Every time I went to the barn to see them, their bowls and litter were turned awry, even if it was only an hour. So, they are now in our basement.

I will begin training to trust us tomorrow night. It’s the horrible thing I don’t like to do, but it worked with my girls. No food unless a person is present, up to 24 hours. The vets told me we can go up to 48 hours, but I can’t do it. 24-hours in my max.

They are still seeking a home, but once our girls start to meet them, it’s a sealed deal for me, so long as they get along. So, if you find these faces irresistible, please come and sit with us.

It may take weeks or months, but they will be loved in a loving home.

 

Two Loves – Seeking Loving Home

This mother and daughter pair of fluffies is seeking a furever loving home together. They have been on the streets of Kalamazoo. Their rescuer has named the daughter (white nose) Poppet and the mom (on the left) Mama. The mom is probably 3-4 years old and the daughter 1-2 years old. They are spayed, and probably have some shots received at the same time.

They are semi-feral, perhaps, if that. My two girls who came from our barn were truly feral when I brought them into our home 20 years ago. I tamed them with food. But for the first couple of weeks, I wasn’t able to pet them in any way. These girls, you can reach through the wires of their kennel and pet their heads, and they respond in kind. No biting or scratching. My two feral girls were never lap cats, but they would delightedly sit next to me and sought love and affection.

Mama is more skittish, but still stays nearby. Poppet would role around the rub the ankles of her savior when being fed. There is much hope for these girls to be tame and reciprocate your affection.

The fun part is that you’re welcome to come and visit them with me when I feed them each evening. If you may have an interest in these soft beauties, come wearing your barn clothes, and sit with them for a while to see if there’s a connection. They’ll be in the kennel for two weeks in case we cannot find a home for them, so that the feral barn cats here can become accustom to them and welcome them into the herd. But my hope and prayer is that they end up in a loving home.

If my Joy cat were more open like our Merry cat, I would absolutely try to bring them into our home. But Joy is just coming into her own and at peace in our home. I don’t want to disrupt that for her.

Will you come pet them with me?

They are the gray of the one on the right. The shadow is darkening the mother on the left.

 

That Connection Remains

I was sitting at work today reading an article in Defense One. I found over the Christmas and New Year holiday break that my dad had once subscribed to this newsletter. I subscribed to the electronic version because it is helpful in my work of teaching the ins and outs of government contracting. My dad subscribed because he was a conscientious objector and an activist for human rights.

Just reading this, no matter the text, brings tears to my eyes to have this connection. Come the 19th of this month, my dad will have been a light in Heaven for 14 years. Sometimes it feels he’s been gone for a minute, and other times decades. No matter the years, I both miss him and am grateful to have had him as a confidant, guide, friend, and father.

His wisdom was so very strong and passionate for all things humane, kind, and compassionate. I pray you have people like him in your life to help on this adventure called life. Although he is gone from the earth, his lessons live on in those blessed to have known him.

Moral of this Story: Show love now for those you love. “Life is short, and we don’t have much time to gladden the hearts of those who walk the way with us.” ~ Henri-Frederic Amiel

 

Yes, My Mom Swears

But only for severe situations.

My colleague asked today if my mom ever swears. I said that she sure does, but only in the most dire of circumstances. She jinxed us!

I wasn’t home from work for more than 15 minutes, and I hear my mom making not-so-fun noises in the kitchen. When I got there, she was saying the S word meaning doo doo and barely hanging on to a pan of bubbling hot lasagna. It was a frozen lasagna that she’d baked.

It first slid off of the cookie sheet she baked the pan on. So she moved the cookie sheet and picked up the pan of lasagna wearing two kitchen hot pads that are really giant mittens with near zero flexibility to move your fingers around the edges of anything. Then, we both watched in horror as the thing slipped (seemingly slowly, but actually with some serious zip) down onto the door, the crack between the door and the oven, and into the oven.

(I use “pan” loosely: it’s really a cardboard container that no longer holds its shape or contents once hot. We may never buy one of those again. We’re not much for cooking, and cleaning up is for the cleaning fairies that don’t ever visit our home.)

Oh, so not pretty. But I now wish I’d taken before and after photos. It took an hour or so to clean it, after waiting for the oven to cool down, but we managed to get it ALL cleaned up. And the oven now looks better than before it ever met that nasty lasagna.

Please, let’s not talk about when my mom swears again. Please.

 

Love Never Dies

My brother’s had a surprise that brought him both joy and sadness. A customer said this week that he remembers his sister Barbara and when she died.

This took the floor out from under him. This is the 60th year since she died of things we now vaccinate children for. She got German Measles that went into Encephalitis, and she passed from this earth in under two days.

He is sad because he has few memories of her, other than her dark hair and that she reminded him most of our dad. And there are few people left on earth who do remember our sister Barbara. Their mom died only a few years after Barbara, our dad passed on 13 years ago, and our parent’s generation that knew her from birth have nearly all moved on from this world.

But he was glad because someone does remember her. Someone who actually met her, played with her, and spent time with her … even if only in school. Because this man was about three years older than Barbara, his memories are better than my brother who was three years younger than Barbara.

Although I never knew her, I will always tell you that I am one of five children. I never met Barbara, and I miss my sister Cheri who passed on 24 years ago, but I still am one of five children. This is the same for my nieces and nephews. I will always tell you that I had seven, and six are still living.

My brother will take longer to tell you this, but only because six decades have not diminished the loss of first Barbara and then a few, short years later, his mom too. Learning to live without people can be done physically, but the emotional attachment never ends. And I don’t believe it should, because these people live on inside of us.

Just because someone has left this life, doesn’t mean they have left the hearts of those still here.