When a Cat Loves a Woman

Originally posted in 2017

My cat Tippi is in love with me. And I’m not talking puppy love either. This is full-fledged kitty passion. I’ve never experienced anything like it. Now don’t get me wrong; it’s not like she’s always been enamored with me. Quite the contrary. No, this love affair has taken years to blossom, which makes her recent adoration all the more perplexing.

tippi

If you know torties (tortoiseshell cats), you know they have what’s referred to as tortitude. And trust me here, that’s not an exaggeration. They’re often temperamental and unpredictable, facts I never knew back when I was mostly a dog person. Didn’t know much about felines at all, only that my cats were all different. Surprise, surprise; cats have personalities. Go figure.

I found my first feline, a calico kitten, on a ranch I jogged by one morning. She was barely alive so I scooped her up, took her to a vet, and was told she had pneumonia and probably wouldn’t make it. But Rudie was a survivor.

Rudy sleeping

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How I was Rescued by Seven Kittens

So Wednesday morning I’m on the freeway bringing kittens to get spayed and neutered at a local veterinary clinic. Naturally, I’m late because the freeway is a parking lot. In the back of my SUV, seven of the 11 kittens we rescued from Kern County are serenading me with a chorus of meows.

What lucky kitties. Our feral cat rescue rarely deals with domestics but when we learned these were scheduled to be euthanized for lack of adopters, we decided to help. And that’s how I found myself on the freeway Wednesday morning.

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It’s the Little Things

The older I get, the more I treasure the little things that, in my youth, I wouldn’t have given a second thought. Now don’t get me wrong; If you’re considered young and are reading this, you likely have no idea what I’m talking about. But if you ask me, enjoying the little things is one of the few perks of aging.

Now that I’m 70, I find I don’t sweat the small stuff like I did in my youth, aka, back when I had collagen and nary a gray hair. I barely recognize myself today from when I was 40, and not strictly by looks, although there’s that too.

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Abra Cadabra: The Disappearing Kitten

 This was first posted way back in July, 2013

I went to church on Sunday.

Now don’t get me wrong. This may not seem like a big deal to you, but to those who know me, it’s practically a miracle. You see, I haven’t been to the Big House in a couple of years. I used to be one of those holiday church-goers. You know the type; we attend for Christmas and Easter. Then it got to where I only appeared for weddings and funerals. But I’m relatively certain last Sunday wasn’t a holy holiday and nobody I know died or got hitched.

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The Death of Me

Hard to believe I wrote this in 2013, but there you go. Skip and Oliver are still with me, along with eight other pets who have also almost caused my death at one time or another.

I adore my pets, but I have little doubt they’re going to be the death of me.

Skip, Nellie & Callie
Skip, Nellie and Callie
Oliver
Oliver

You see, they’re determined to trip and kill me. You wouldn’t think animals would have a sinister side to them, would you? Well, I’m beginning to wonder. It can’t be a coincidence that it keeps happening, can it?

If you have animals, you know what I’m talking about. In my pets’ attempt to either get my attention, race me wherever I’m headed, or stick to me like glue because they adore me (yeah, right), I rarely make it through a day without avoiding a face-plant or near-death stumble.

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