Amy Newmark - Life Lessons from the Cat 101 Stories About Our Feline Friends and What Matters Most

Changing the world one story at a time

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In ancient times cats were worshipped as gods; they have not forgotten this.

~Terry Pratchett

T oday started like any other Sunday. I woke up, made coffee for my boyfriend and me, and took out our pack of dogs. I say pack because, well, there are four: three Cocker Spaniel females and a male Jack Russell Terrier. It is a fun-loving, furry zoo of animated proportions to say the least, each one with its own unique personality. However, they are my boyfriends dogs, not mine. I love them, but I am a cat person. However, we just couldnt see getting a cat with four dogs at home.

I noticed soon after taking out the dogs that their focus was directed toward a tree. It was not unusual for them to circle, sniff, and claw at the dirt around the trees, especially if they smelled a squirrel, but today was a little different. They paid extra attention to this one tree. The sun was not up entirely, so it took a minute to focus in the dwindling darkness on what was commanding their attention. Then I heard it: a mew. Just one, but a mew. A kitten was somewhere near that tree!

The dogs were frantically trying to find the source of the sound. They ran in circles around the tree, under the nearby bushes, and back and forth to me as if to say, Mom, where is it? I can smell it. I can hear it, but I cant find it. I stood still for a moment, staring at a blank space in front of our outdoor shed when I noticed a little shape coming toward the dogs. My heart raced. I had no idea what they would do to a small animal they had never seen before. The dogs formed a tight circle around the animal, with noses to the ground and tails hanging low, and I ran toward them to save the little creature.

Suddenly, a gray-and-black-striped kitten popped out from between one of the Cocker Spaniels legs and came toward me. I realized the dogs were merely curious, and not about to attack the little thing. I picked him up and he started mewing louder and rubbed his little cheeks against my hand and arm. He was about six weeks old, and he had the loudest purr Id ever heard. It was like listening to a Mack Truck idling.

The dogs, still not sure what to do, clamored for me to show them the kitten, so I did. To my surprise, the wee kitten jumped out of my hands, right into the center of my pack of dogs, allowing them to sniff and lick him all over. This little one had no fear! I said to the kitten, Well, I guess this means youre the newest member of our pack. Welcome home, little one!

I took him inside and yelled out to my boyfriend, You wont believe what the dogs just found in the back yard. I showed him the kitten, and he laughed. He said, Looks like you got yourself a cat. What are you going to name him?

That decision didnt take long. I looked the kitten over and noticed that his right eye was a little pink and swollen, and he had no hair on his bottom. I had no idea how long he had been surviving in the woods, but he seemed to be commanding the pack already, so I knew I had to give him a fitting name. Being that one of the hit movies out at the time was about pirates, and that my boyfriend loves to dress like a pirate on Halloween, I decided on a pirate name. I took the kitten, looked him in the eyes and stated, Ye shall be known as Captain Jack Lickinbottom, ye scoundrel! His response was a loud purr, an even louder mew, and a paw tap on my nose as if to say, I approve. Youve done well, so I think I shall keep you.

Twenty-four hours and a trip to the vet later, my six-week-old commander was taking his role seriously. He would slap a nose if he didnt want to be bothered, climb across furry bellies when he wanted to play or snuggle, and climb up our legs to get attention or demand food. And when he wanted some solitude from all the ruckus and chaos, Jack could be found curled up inside the pot of my Camellia plant, napping soundly.

That was eleven years ago, and I still have Captain Jack with me today all fifteen pounds of him. He no longer has the company of a pack of dogs, but he does have a sweet, feisty feline companion, Little Bit, upon whom he showers daily kisses and baths. She was found under similar circumstances as Jack. And, like Jack, she chose me to be her scullery maid, kitchen staff, massage therapist, and all-around underling as they plot world domination from their window perch. I wouldnt have it any other way.

As Mel Brooks once said, Its good to be the king! But, in this instance, its good to be Captain.

Danielle Stephens

There is something about the presence of a cat that seems to take the bite out of being alone.

~Louis J. Camuti

D enny and Checkers were nine-year-old, brown tabby brothers. They looked almost exactly alike, except that Checkers was slightly bigger. They did everything together and slept in the same large cage at floor level in our shelter. We would always find them curled up with each other when they were not cautiously examining and rubbing against potential adopters. We knew they had been together all their lives, so they were a bonded pair. Whoever adopted one had to take the other.

Checkers went in for routine surgery and did not wake up. It is a rare occurrence, but it happens. Denny was left alone in his cage, wondering where his brother went. He became depressed and would no longer come out to play and say hi to people looking to adopt. Not even treats or wet food would coax him out. He would barely let people touch him. People asked about his story and felt bad for him, but never put in an application to adopt him. For weeks, he sat in the cage he and his brother had shared. We did not change the blanket Checkers had lain on so Denny could always smell his brother.

A small, blond woman came in looking to adopt one day. When she heard about Checkers, she said, I have to call someone, and rushed out to make a phone call. She returned a half-hour later with a somber-looking gentleman and led him to Dennys cage. Denny looked up at him for a while, and then stood up and came out of his cage. We all gasped and gave them space. Denny sniffed the man before rubbing his face against his hand a few times. He stood there next to him, sniffing and slowly rubbing against the man.

I have to have this cat, said the man. We were near tears as we handed him an application. He filled it out immediately, and we pooled our resources to call his vet and references to get the adoption approved by the evening. Usually, it takes days to process an application.

The man came and got Denny the next morning. We waived the adoption fee since we were so happy that Denny had come out of his shell for someone. As the man began to leave, he set down the carrier gently, got down on his knees, and cried. We ran over to see what was wrong.

Through fractured breaths, he said, I lost my brother to cancer six months ago. We were two years apart, and we were inseparable. He was my best friend. We talked every day. I miss him so much. This cat knows what that pain feels like. He knows I have lost a brother, too. Its like we need each other, and we will take care of each other. Together, we will be alright. Then he walked out with Denny in his carrier. I had to take a moment in the bathroom to splash water on my face and wipe my eyes before returning to finish my shift.