Amy Newmark - Chicken Soup for the Soul: My Clever, Curious, Caring Cat: 101 Tales of Feline Friendship

Chicken Soup for the Soul

My Clever, Curious, Caring Cat

101 Tales of Feline Friendship

Amy Newmark

Royalties from this book go to

American Humane

First to Serve

Changing lives one story at a time

www.chickensoup.com

Whos in Charge Here?

The Cat That Saved Dogs

Cats will outsmart dogs every time.

~John Grogan

T he Pit Bull lunged at Molly, and my hand fluttered to my chest. What if the dog hurt her? The little twelve-year-old cat was a final link to my sister whod passed away years earlier.

Like my sister, Molly was petite and independent, taking in stride whatever life threw at her. But even a sassy feline was no match for the snarling brute standing before her. Or so I thought. Turns out, I was wrong.

While Brandi, my neighbor, fumbled for a leash to pull the dog away, Molly refused to budge. She didnt run or arch her back in fear as some cats do. She stood her ground, her cool green eyes unwavering.

The dogs growl became a whimper, and his brow furrowed in bewilderment at this fearsome feline.

I heaved a sigh of relief. If anything had happened to her, I wouldve been heartbroken. A dozen years earlier, Nancy had selected the gray-and-white kitten for me from a litter born on the farm where she and my brother-in-law lived.

What should I name her? Id asked.

Why not Molly? she suggested. So, Molly it was.

Over the years, the little cat grew dearer to me. Like my sister, the cat was surprisingly tough. Before cancer took its toll on my sister, she taught school for many years. Though barely five feet tall, she could control a classroom with one glance from her clear blue eyes.

My thoughts returned to the present as Brandi gasped in admiration. That Molly is something. Im going to use her to train all our rescue dogs. Theyre more adoptable if theyre cat-friendly.

Brandi led a rescue group that saved dogs from our local shelter and placed them in homes where foster families socialized the animals until they were adopted into forever homes.

Soon, every dog Brandi rescued encountered a stare-down from Molly. After the trainees left, the unflappable cat would twitch her tail and sashay about her business.

In time, my husband and I also fostered dozens of dogs, and every pooch learned to get along with cats before heading to their adopters homes.

On the rescue groups website, all the pups that stayed in our home, as well as those Brandi fostered, earned the cat-friendly badge next to their names. Prospective adopters were often skeptical, so Id use my phone to make videos of the pooches lying quietly as Molly strutted past. Sometimes, she even snuggled next to them in their beds.

Brandi has since moved, and we dont keep many pups these days. But during the time we were actively fostering, Molly trained about forty canines, helping them make the transition from unmannered shelter dogs to gentle pets bound for loving homes.

Some adopters update us regularly, sending pictures of canines we cared for, living the good life in their new homes. The photos often include cats lounging nearby, and they make me smile. Many dogs were tiny puppies while in our care. They have many years ahead to experience the love of families who were willing to take in a rescue as long as the newcomer could get along with cats already in the household. A few were elderly dogs in need of homes to live out their final years, and being cat-friendly increased their adoptability. Either way, my brave kitty had a hand, or paw, in all those happy endings.

At fourteen, Molly is still going strong and continues to be a daily reminder of my courageous sister, who could face down a room full of unruly kids or the specter of cancer, just as the cat she named doesnt back down from anything.

Beth Gooch

Cat on a Mission

People that dont like cats havent met the right one yet.

~Deborah A. Edwards

I n 1995, I was twenty-two and working as a 911 dispatcher. Late one evening, one of the county paramedics came in carrying a young gray-and-white cat. He was trying to find a home for him because his family was relocating to an apartment that didnt allow pets. Still grieving the loss of my beloved cat Rudy about a year before, I wanted to adopt a new kitty, but my father was dead set against it. Since I still lived with my parents, I respected his decision, but on this particular night I simply could not resist the longhaired ball of fur that came into the office looking for a new home. I knew Dad would be angry, but I also knew he secretly liked cats and felt certain that I could convince him to let me keep him.

Well, I was wrong! When I came trudging in with the cat later that evening, Dad was furious. Before I knew it, we were engaged in one of the worst arguments I can ever recall. Dad was a kind and loving man, but he could rattle the rafters when anger got the best of him. Bringing home another wayward cat that night rubbed him the wrong way. We shouted back and forth for at least a half-hour before he finally caved in with the stipulation that I would be solely responsible for his feeding, cleaning, and vet bills. He wanted nothing to do with him. I agreed but still proceeded to stomp and pout down the hall to my bedroom like a child, fuming, mumbling, and carrying the cat in my arms.

As I lay in bed, still huffing, puffing, and sniffling while petting him, I decided to name him Simon. Before long, I found myself talking to him because, well, I had no one else to talk to. As I gently stroked his ears and listened to him purr, I told him that we would have to find a way to make Dad warm up to him.

You know, I said. Youre going to have to go out there and butter him up if you want to stay.

In the past, my dad had always protested first about the many strays or homeless cats my sister and I brought home, but he had also been the first to get attached to them. This time, however, I wasnt sure this would be the case. After a while, I headed back to the living room, with Simon right behind me. What happened next is almost impossible to believe. If both my mother and I hadnt witnessed it, Im not even sure we would believe it!

Simon ran down the hall, passing me altogether, and headed straight for Dad, who was relaxing in his recliner watching television. He leapt right onto his lap, only to have Dad shove him off. He stood there for a moment, switching his tail back and forth, and then leapt right up again. Again, Dad shoved him off, his eyes rolling. Simon immediately jumped onto his lap a third time, only to be shoved off again, this time with a lengthy stream of curse words. With that, Simon went around to the side of the chair, stood on his back legs and, placing his front paws on the arm of it, just stared at Dad for a moment.