Tuesday, August 3, 2010

Her Name Should Be Grace

There are creatures, for you pet lovers, that just seem to touch you.  I had a cat name Randy, given name Random (a long story in which my husband won that battle.  She was not a He!  But he loved the character in the series he was reading from Roger Zelazny) and I had been blessed for her to allow me to be her owner for 18 years.  After that time I knew I would always have a cat in the house. 

The iconic idea of a cat on the bed is from my childhood, where I always had an animal or two to share my life with.  Randy was special and most definitely my cat.  She had been a good and fine companion.

My heart yearned for another.  So, my husband and I began visiting the local Humane Society in search of a kitten.  We had said we would not get another black cat because Randy had been black and we wanted to move our hearts on.  We fell in love with a really different brown cat, but he was a male.  At the time my husband was dead set against males.  So, there was this little black kitten who was mewing a lot and she got my attention.  She was friendly and so home we went with another black kitten. 

Now, Randy did not really meow until she was almost a year old. She did make a noise but it was sort of a Ma-uck sound.  I know that this strange but I have been told there are some cats that don’t need to meow, they are just content and that is that.  Not this new one.  She was mewing all the time.  At first I thought there was something wrong!  We showed her cat box, which towered over her.  She must have thought it was a cage because she was resistant at first to leave it.  She leave, go a few feet, mew and run back.  She did this for a good hour and a half until she got far enough away to see Chris and I in the other room. 

She “talked” all the time.  When she wanted something, when she was happy, when she played, when you sneezed (no, really!).  I mean all the time.  Now I have heard of dogs who like to “talk”, Schnauzers being one of them.  They like the last word, but I had never had a cat like this.  Turn’s out there were other things I would never experience before too.  She is extremely clumsy.  She didn’t walk with the charm and ability of any of my past cats.  She knocked things over.  She jumped okay, but was never sure where she would land.  You could see this expression on her face of maybe not terror, but of “OH BOY”.  Jumping down she would climb down as far as she could and then plop on the ground with a thud, not with the svelteness of a cat, but the thud of a dog.

As she got older it seemed she might have had eye issues, but that was dismissed as it became evident that it was certainly a brain perception issue.  She patted the water in the bowl to try to judge the distance, only to sometimes dunk her nose in it.  She mastered that after a few years but there were many years she would dip the paw and splash, dip the paw and splash it again. 

She was so tiny at first.  She developed what my Vet called an “Apron” her tummy sagged like a cat who has had a dozen kittens.  When she would lie down she spread out like a cat weighing five times more than what she did.

It was some where along the line I realized she had not one mean bone in her body.  She never growled (although she does yowl at the other cat we now have that takes much pleasure in terrorizing her)  scratched, never bit, and when she did purr it was usually quiet and it usually made her gag!  She was just a good soul.  She loved to snuggle with my husband on his chair and would climb up on his chest for loving.  Me, on the other hand (hand being the operative word) struggled when anyone came at her face first (because of the brain issue) and would back off when you were about to love her.  Thus began the beginnings of “tootsie lovin’.”  One day she was mewing and wrapping herself around my legs as I sat in my chair.  It was at this point I started to stroke her with my sneakered foot.  Low and behold she just adored this.  She would come whenever I tapped my toes when I sat and I would stroke her sides.  She was in nirvana!  I would take off my shoes to do around her head and this became our ritual, and still is.  Where I could not approach her face forward (she was fine when I petted her from behind her head) she thrived and accepted “tootsie” love, and in fact insisted on it with continued meows.

Each pet I have had I have learned more about myself than about them.  They have brought out different parts of me.  Here was what at best could be called a special needs cat and she was mine.  Then again I have my own special needs.  She was devoted and so am I.

So I sit here while I watch her curled up into a ball.  If I “mew” to her, she will “meow” back.  I know we have a connection.

What began as a joke because of her lack of cat like abilities, Grace became a state of being about her.

“yeh, mentally”) by God.  She was meant for me and I was meant for her.  She is Grace.