Colleen Sell - Cat Stories Youll Love: True tales of purrfectly remarkable kitties

Avon, Massachusetts

One of the reasons we humans, or at least those who are ailurophiles, are so enamored with cats is that they possess certain characteristics we desire for ourselves but rarely achieve. Who wouldnt want to have these qualities: physical beauty, strength, and agility; an independent spirit; elegance and grace; the ability both to relax completely and to focus completely; the ability to be affectionate and playful at will and for no other reason; expressiveness; courage; discernment; self-possession?

Perhaps that being self-possessed, comfortable in ones own skin is the most appealing aspect of the feline personality. Such individuality inspires us to be true to ourselves and to be tolerant of others. That is but one of many life lessons our cats have to teach us as evidenced by the stories featured in Cat Stories Youll Love. These stories are as varied and engaging as the different cats and cat lovers in the world. Yet each celebrates the quintessential free soul of these fascinating creatures and the tremendous comfort they bring to our lives.

By Mahala E. Wood

Generally speaking, folks line up in either one camp or the other. They have certain, definite preferences when it comes to pets. Usually, they are either in the dog-lovers camp or the cat-lovers camp.

Through the years, as my husband and I raised four children, we gave them the opportunity to experience the responsibility of helping care for our pets. While the kids were young, the pets were more ours than theirs that is, until our son, Patrick, and his sister, Sara, determined to get their own dog. They had in mind a dachshund puppy, but it would cost them $50. So they went to work. The two of them washed cars, sold lemonade, babysat, and did various odd jobs to come up with the money. That feisty little dog followed them around and was their companion and then ours for nineteen years.

But this is not a story about dogs; this is really a tale about cats. We never had a cat as a pet while Sara and Patrick were growing up. Later, I acquired a wonderful Maine coon cat we called Smudge. I say acquired because that is how you get a cat. Its generally not intentional; they just kind of show up, and you adopt or you dont. Once I got to know Smudge, there was no question that I wanted him to stay. He seemed to have some of the easygoing character of our black lab, Coal. They became fond companions, often sleeping curled up together on Coals comfy, old bed.

By then, Patrick and Sara both lived in other places, occasionally coming home for special holidays to see their two younger brothers and us. Sara had developed some allergies, and right at the top of her list was cats, so she avoided the cats when she was in our home. Once, when she was sleeping in an upstairs room, she heard what she described as a loud growling noise. Smudge was coming by to see her. He always purred very loudly. Sara was put off by the noise. After that, in deference to her and her husbands allergies, I kept our two cats in the garage during their visits. Later, two of her four children also showed tendencies to sneeze when around cats, and one, Daniel, developed asthma-like symptoms.

So, although I enjoyed a longtime friendship of twenty years with Smudge otherwise known as the king of my heart he was never a companion to our daughters family. In fact, she often referenced cats in a negative way, talking about how she had seen them kill birds or, while living in Omaha, how cats would come by and use their childrens sandbox as a litter box annoying creatures that they were.

In the year that my husband and I packed up and moved from Colorado to Texas, to live closer to a son and his family and to our daughter and her family, we experienced some sad losses. Our cat Samantha, who had been with us fifteen years, developed a mass between her shoulder blades, which turned out to be cancer in the form of a rapidly growing sarcoma. I had to make the tough decision to have her euthanized. Like many cats, Sam had been pretty much of a one-person companion and never really warmed to others in the family, nor they to her.

Several months later, when Smudge began to slow down, withdraw, and eventually stop eating, we were very concerned. He had been a wonderful companion since our lab, Coal, had passed away. I rushed Smudge to a weekend clinic, only to learn, several hundred dollars later, that he had cancer of the liver. We lost this faithful old friend just before Thanksgiving. My kids all knew that I really missed this amazing cat.

Meanwhile, down near Houston where our daughter lives, on Thanksgiving her family heard some faint little mew sounds coming from the other side of a high fence that surrounds their backyard. The neighbors, whose yard the sounds were coming from, were out of town. When the sounds persisted, our grandchildrens curiosity got the best of them, and they discovered that a feral cat had delivered a litter of kittens under an old pile of wood that was next to the fence.

Later that week there was a heavy downpour. When Sara and the kids ventured out to check on the kittens, they saw momma cat depositing them one by one out in the front driveway in the rain. There had been six kittens, but one drowned in that old woodpile. Sara and the kids moved the other five kitties into a shed on the neighbors property. The shed had space under the door so momma cat could come and go. But momma cat moved them again, to another yard where a big dog lived. Sara and the kids found and rescued them after looking high and low. This time they took matters into their own hands and decided to take care of them themselves. They placed the kittens, two black ones and three gray tabbies, in a box in their garage. They bought baby formula and began feeding the kittens.

Sara went online and learned that it is important to handle feral cats while they are young in order to train them to be friendly, to domesticate them. So the children handled them, even bringing them into the house, much to the chagrin of their two dogs. One black kitten had white paws and a white bib, so they named her Tuxedo, and the other they called Panther. Since the kittens would be ready to go to new homes just after Christmas, they gave two of them Christmas names, Mistletoe and Holly. Our grandson Daniels favorite Winnie the Pooh character is Tigger, so that name was given to the only male in the litter, a short-haired, striped tabby.

Just after Christmas Sara and John and the kids drove up to Austin to spend the weekend with us. I heard the car arrive in the drive followed by doors slamming and excited laughter as the kids tumbled through the open door and deposited two darling kittens into my arms. Merry Christmas, Nana! they shouted.

Even more heartwarming to me than the gift of two new cats to keep us company was the change I saw in our daughters family. They had laid aside their previous disdain for cats and risked allergic reactions to rescue and take care of these kittens. They placed all in welcoming homes, especially blessing us! Incidentally, our last name is Wood, so we have Tigger Wood and Holly Wood. Both are delightful, full of all the antics and curiosity that are endearing about cats, and as celebrated as their namesakes.

Mahala E. Wood and her husband, Tom, left Colorados mountains three years ago to live near their children and eight grandkids. Having enjoyed a twenty-two-year Navy career, she is no stranger to new places. They have resided in Panama, Maryland, California, Oregon, Colorado, and now Texas. She enjoys reading and has recently pursued a desire to write. Her family and pets inspire her writing.