If you've read my book, The Distracted Yogi then you'll know all about The Cats who saved my life!
So here it is, my short story, eventually it will become my next book-
Martin passed only just a week ago & my heart is still broken. I'm left wondering, just how am I going get by without his calm, confident & unassuming cat self?
Somehow I will, I'll go on, I must for there are other little ones who need me & it's for them I'll continue until life's passions kick in again & carry me onto the next chapter of my life...So here it is, my short story, eventually it will become my next book-
The Cats Who Saved My Life
Martin
and Sammy, two cats of common cat heritage (as common as is possible for a Cat
that
is!), came into this life-dimension probably completely aware and up-to-speed
on
Me, their latest Cat-Human assignment of sorts.
I,
on the other hand, was completely unaware and, eventually, caught completely
off
guard
by their wily abilities. This cat infiltration of-a-kind lead directly to full
on cat
occupation
of the deepest most coveted corners of my heart, then once firmly
established
there, claimed total control my heart strings with the deft expertise of a
skilled
cellist!
I
was sunk from the very beginning I just didn't know it, and yet, I must remind Myself:
This,
is a love story.
Sammy: 1999-
2013
Speciality:
Undercover Cat-Human Reconnaissance
agent.
Mission Assignment:
To Remove & Rehome potentially deadly or fatal diseases
and/or
illnesses from select Human subjects.
Sammy
came into my life as an unwanted alley cat and by the time we’d locked
eyes
his life’s mission was already in full-operation mode.
What appeared random and chance were carefully crafted moments of opportunity-Sammy knew exactly what he was doing that day when he glanced towards me, as I slowly and
What appeared random and chance were carefully crafted moments of opportunity-Sammy knew exactly what he was doing that day when he glanced towards me, as I slowly and
deliberately
scanned the pet cages for that ‘Special’ one, when with expert feline
precision,
gave me the secret cat-wink!
I
was smitten right then and there, only, I didn't get it then. I didn't get that
our
meeting
was a set-up right from the start.
Sammy
looked and acted like a regular cat only he wasn't regular or ordinary at all. The
cat
rescue people named him Sweetie Pie which, while appropriate, had to go!
‘Sammy’
was the name sake of a dearly departed relative and so seemed fitting for this
sweet,
unassuming fur ball. Sammy was easy going, liked to cuddle
(his
favourite past time!) and be very vocal towards the other cats in the neighbourhood.
Though
I’d later surmised that this was probably some secret Cat communications taking
place
all along, however, back then
I
was completely oblivious I was busy revelling in Cat companion heaven.
In
2012 my health was coming to the apex of a very long journey called ‘recovery.’
I’d
had bad car crash years earlier, long after Sammy and Martin were already
firmly
established
in my life and in my heart.
In
the fall of 2012 my doctor told me there was a chance that my head injury sustained long
ago could possibly morph into something more, more of what I didn't really
know,
probably
they didn't know either or just wouldn't say. More tests and scans were on the
agenda
but Sammy got sick so I put that all aside somewhere in my damaged brain and focussed
on Sammy instead.
‘Little
Sammers’ suddenly developed some very distressing and baffling neurological
symptoms.
He began crying and crying apparently for no good reason. Then after a few
days
of constant yowling he would fall completely silent. This phase was always the
precursor
to other more strange and disturbing behaviours such as: walking in circles,
getting
stuck in corners of the room and unable to find his way out, going pee outside
the
litter
box, then the final most devastating phase: complete catatonic demeanour. No
sound,
no
movement just a limp unconscious little fur-body.
I
was a wreck. Sammy was my baby and to see him in such a state was a terrible shock.
The
vet prescribed antibiotics and within 24 hours Sammy did come back from the
brink-three
times in all. But, after the third pseudo recovery. I laid him to rest
permanently.
He’d suffered enough. The vet said Sammy had all the classic symptoms of
a
brain tumour so with my permission, a sample of his brain tissue was sent off
for
analysis.
The vet cautioned me though, saying “it could take years to get back
any
results.” I'm still waiting for the confirmation that Sammy took on my troubles
and
made
them his own. It was his mission, after all.
Martin:
1998-2015
Speciality:
Cat
Companion Liaison (Earth Division): Cat-Human Interventions
Mission Assignment: Heart
and Souls Recovery and Reintegration
Martin’s
arrival into my life could not be more unlikely an event yet somehow he
did
arrive and even more incredulously, he stole my heart!
In
1998 life came to an abrupt halt when emotionally I’d a hit a virtual wall
after
my beloved cat Hillary died suddenly and tragically from a fall.
I
was utterly crushed by her death but in particular it was the
mind-numbing
guilt of not adequately protecting her from such an awful end to
her
short life of only 5 years. The guilt was soul-crushing I had to do something
to
cope
so, one week later I began a half-hearted search for a new kitty and, in the
space
of that distraction, nearly forgot about my grief if only for a moment or two.
It was enough to keep me upright, to keep me from going completely insane from those three, soul destroying what ifs; shoulda, coulda, woulda.
After
only a few hours of scanning the local papers I’d found one ad and only one;
‘Rescued
Kittens for adoption. To good homes only.’ I dialled the number with
hands
tembling. Just one kitten left out of a littler of five. I had to get there
Asap!
As
I entered the home of a very young, very kind woman I was
immediately
mobbed by critters of all descriptions; nursing kitty-moms, expectant
doggy-moms,
abandoned puppies and kittens, lots and lots of kittens!
They
were everywhere and so was the Love. It was palpable. I scooped up
one
of the tabby boy-kittens as he raced by. I held him to my chest tightly but he
struggled
and wailed his kitten cries piercing the air all the while threatening
to
squirm away from of my tight grasp. ‘He’s not the one.’ The rescue lady announced,
‘That one there, next to your foot, he’s the only one left.’
This
one, the
last one, was clearly the feeblest of the litter. The runt. He struggled to crawl
even while his siblings romped and did kitty burn-outs all around the room and
all over me! I felt a bit dismayed. I needed a strong, confident type cat. One who
could handle my grief and still thrive despite possibly being ignored for a time,
at least until the worst of the sorrow over Hillary could pass. This one, I’d quickly
assessed, the one who looked too needy, cried feebly, and barely crawled on
shaky legs, was clearly not ‘The One!’
‘Do
you want him?” “Sure, yes, I’ll take him.” I said haltingly not quite believing
what I
was
saying. Why did I say yes?! I was perplexed; I couldn't believe what I’d just
done
yet there it was, I’d agreed to take on this fragile, innocent soul for good; a
promise
to care for him for the rest of his life.
.
‘Martin’
stole my heart and never gave it back until he left this plane of
existence
just one week ago. I didn't want my heart back though; I wanted him, not his
memory
or a photo but Him and his soft silky self.
After his sudden death I came to the painful realisation that it was not I who rescued Martin but rather the opposite was true.
He'd nurtured me through countless illnesses,
health crises, all manner of traumas,
relationship endings and beginnings, career
changes, and multi-digit moves, several across
the entire province!
It was Martin who taught me how to love and it was Martin who saved my life.
Forever
devoted. Michelle
