When my son called the other day from Colorado, his greeting was in the form of "Hey Cat Lady." I remember denying this, but then I got to thinking. Just how many cats do you have to own in order to be referred to as a "Cat Lady."
I only have six. Is that too many? I've heard the horror stories of fifty or more unhealthy and uncared for cats being found in a home, but I only have six spoiled rotten felines. Besides, I am too young to be a "Cat Lady." When I said this to my son, his response was, "Well, you thought you were too young to be a grandmother too."
That's true. Then I guess age doesn't matter, but in my defense, I will say that three of my cats were kind of rescue situations. So I should be applauded as a hero!
There are times, I will reluctantly admit, when life gets hectic with six kitties, but they make life so interesting. My second article which just happens to be about cats has been published. I have attached the link.
http://www.wikinut.com/the-best-reason-for-having-a-cat/aybb5hjb/3rq_uo44/
Go read it and have a laugh. Tell me what you think.
It's been over a year since my last posting, but what a year it has been. I got married and started a new job. My son's girlfriend moved in. Another grandchild has been born. Our cat family grew two new members, and Sassy Cat is now an indoor cat and loving it as you can tell in the picture.
My life has really changed. It's what I had wanted - needed, but was afraid of.
Life is always changing. It's always moving, and you have to move with it or get run over. Life is funny like that sometimes. I've heard people say "God doesn't give us more than we can handle." Well, I think God has a wicked sense of humor. I'm the clown juggler at the circus with all these balls in the air, and the fates decide to throw me another and another and another. "Ha! Let's see how she handles that!"
Yes, life is funny. Just when you think that you've got it all figured out, a knuckle ball comes out of nowhere to bowl you over. But it's how you handle these problems that make you who you are. Well, I am still standing, and I am still here.
This is Champers. He was forgotten and abandoned. Thought the worst was at hand with no home of his own. He's like me. Starting a new life with no direction at the moment. Sometimes, though, you just have to have faith that all will turn out just right.
It's hard to have faith. You can't touch it. You can't buy it. But those who have it, wouldn't trade it for the world. It's a belief that things that happen are meant to be. That everything that happens to you was meant to be. You may not know right then why something happens and why it happened to you, but if you have faith, then you believe that things will turn out okay in the end.
It's how I've lived my life. It's how I continue to live my life. Yes, I make choices, and sometimes it's not the right choice, but it's the right choice for me at the time. In the end, all we can do is our best and hope for the best. Life doesn't come with a manual (don't I wish) cause that would make it too easy, and no one ever said life was easy. Faith makes it easier if you believe that all things happen for a reason, that they were meant to be and that you will wind up where you should.
Champers is happy now. He has a home - mine, and I have a cat whose trust I gained by just being me. This is him, laying on the driveway, wondering why I stopped petting him. He can't understand that I just needed to capture the moment. Don't forget to stop sometimes and just enjoy the moment, and have faith that there will be many wonderful moments you'll want to capture and hold on to.
In a previous life I was a bona fide die-hard cat-hating dog lover and proud of it. One day I was out-voted and over-ruled by my teenagers and a kitten moved in. I remember standing my ground and being tough. I ruled that the enemy would be confined to their room. I wanted no part of that cat.
It took a while (two days), but I finally warmed up to the little thing. I really don't remember how it happened, but within a year that cat was the only thing worth coming home to at the end of a long day. A single woman's companion. Unconditional love without any of the heartache. When the kids moved out, the cat stayed.
We've grown rather close over the years. He's scratched me. I've stepped on his tail. He's bit me. I've squeezed him and cried into his fur when I've been upset. He swatted my favorite coffee cup off the counter and broke it. I took him to the vet and had him fixed (took him three very long days of glaring to get over that). He's peed on my carpet. I've almost killed him when I didn't rinse all the Palmolive off when I tried to give him a bath (took him three very long days to get better).
He annoys me when he scratches the furniture or trips me when I am trying to fix dinner or jumps on the counter when I'm baking or jumps up on the keyboard when I'm writing.
I couldn't imagine life without him.
