HERDING CATS - YES, IT'S POSSIBLE

The old adage says…”it’s like herding cats”…implying that the task at hand is nearly impossible.In that I’m a self-proclaimed ‘Feline Aficionado,’…no degrees required…I can truly say that it IS possible to herd cats, so to speak.

I’ve been surrounded by felines my entire life.I’ve had cats come and go for five decades now, and never once have I tired of them or loved them any less for who they are (or how many insects, reptiles, birds or amphibians they bring into the house).As a child I dressed them in doll clothes, pushed them in make-shift baby buggies (poor kitties); taken in strays; fed and housed the feral ones out in the woods; spent hundreds (if not thousands of dollars) on vet bills; and somehow have become the ‘St. Francis of Assisi’ of cats.There seems to be a magnet around my house and a sign written in ‘Felinese’ that says “Come hither, the CAT LADY will take care of you!

My latest ‘influx’ of cats came about three years ago when a stray calico walked up to the house, in through the kitty door, and invited herself…to stay.As the days and weeks grew long, it was evident that her belly grew wide and fat, a tell-tale signthat screamed “I’m pregnant, homeless, and have nobody to take care of me.”And so, Sassy stayed.‘Sassy’ acquired her name because she came and went as she pleased; didn’t take no for an answer; and generally ruled the roost.All current residing felines disapproved of her but tolerated her bossy intrusion.

Coming home from work one day, I found Sassy in full labor, screaming for a place to birth her kittens, NOW.The closet in a box?No.On a blanket in the tub?No.Beside the bed in a comfy cat bed?NOOOO!She screamed.“In Grammy’s bed, NOW.”So, we stayed up for hours on end, in my bed, fully lined with plastic and towels, giving birth to kittens. I petted her, gave her water to drink from a bowl, and fed her tiny nibbles of food.Between yowls of excruciating pain (not unlike the ones I had when birthing my own two children), she exuded one, two, three large kittens with…my help.

Three years later, I have the most beautiful and docile boys that have become so much a part of the family.They’ve become my life coaches, teaching me unconditional love, tolerance, patience; instructing me to prepare myself for life’s ultimate events.They give from a well so deep that it is essentially bottomless.

They are intuitive…a sort ofESPemanates from them…advising of upcoming storms; trouble in the yard; someone is sick; knowing ‘exactly’ when I should be home and will wait expectantly; and even knowing when Grammy is not in the best of moods and should retreat till all is clear.

I’ve lost many cats over the years: illnesses, dog attacks, and other unforeseen causalities.Each time its broken my heart beyond belief and grieving for them was akin to grieving for loss of a child.

I’ve vowed that it will be different with these three boys.They’ve known me from their birth, grew up with my voice, learned my commands, and will come hence-forth when I call, clap and whistle for them.Like, “herding cats.”They follow me in unison to the mail box, tails high in the air; assist me in the garden, and generally travel with me wherever I go. Every night when I curl up on the couch to watch TV, Scooter, my orange tabby, crawls into my lap and gazes at me with his big green eyes.He emanates a purr so loud that I can here him saying “I love you Grammy.”Each and every night I tell him that I love him…and will miss him when he’s gone.The statement is for me, more than for him.

I know that I will outlive all the felines in my life, but they have all enriched my life so much; Scooter (the baby); Bunny Bear (the protector); and Normie (the healer).One of them was recently very ill, almost near death, and it reminded me--- it prepared me--- for the greatest loss I will have in my life…death.Death not only of my kitties, but of those around me.Teaching me to take care daily with all my heart in the things that I do, what I say, and remembering to say “I love you” to the ones closest to me…because we never know when that final day will come.They teach us how to say goodbye; after all, who is really ever ready when the expiration date comes around?

My cats have been my life-coaches for so long, whether I know it or not.The “task at hand”…they’ve been there to serve me, teach me and prepare me for life’s ultimate events.No humans have been able to do that in all these many decades.I thank my HERD continually, and suggest that all reflect the same in their daily lives.