| By Barbara Wallace | June 28, 2009 |
Ever since third grade, cats have been a big part of my life. My mother still has the essay I wrote about how my allergy-prone bother would go to college so I could get a kitten. Moved by my words, the teacher gave me an A. Moved by my incessant whining, my brother bought home a stray.
Since then I’ve had several cats, all unique in personality. First there was “The Ho”. I don’t have the words or the space to capture the uniqueness that was Ho. Suffice to say, he didn’t consider himself a pet so much as an employer. A furry black old man who just happened to like eating canned tuna (the real kind, not the stuff you served cats). We knew it was bad when one Christmas, my husband’s elderly uncle sat on a uncomfortable spare chair because “he didn’t want to disturb The Ho’s nap.” We always figured, had he lived another sixteen years, he would have been the first cat to develop opposable thumbs.
Cocoapuff is my big, precious fluff-
ball. She’s never met a lap she didn’t want to sit on or come across a hand she didn’t think should be petting her. Doesn’t matter if you’re reading a book, paying the bills or typing a novel, she will get her belly rubbed. As far as she’s concerned, nothing is so important that it can’t wait until she gets a little attention.
Then there is Squeak. Dear, sweet, dim-witted Squeak. Every morning Squeak wakes up to conquer the world. So far, the world hasn’t caved. In fact, one might say the world is beating the tail of her. In three years, she’s fallen into a swimming pool, gotten tangled in her own collar, run into I don’t know how many walls, and gotten her head stuck in a Kleenex box. Twice.
Why am I telling you about these three cats? Because like all the animals that have crossed my path, each one has taught me a valuable life lesson. The Ho taught me to never, ever think of myself as anything less than equal to those around you. Always believe you are as deserving of success and comfort (and tuna) as the next person. And take what you deserve. Meanwhile Cocoa taught me the value of self-care. Everyone needs a little pampering now and then. Moreover, everyone deserves it. Always, always take time out to get your belly rubbed – so to speak.
As for Squeak…. My clueless little kitten may have taught me the most important lesson of all, and that’s to never give up. No matter how many times you get your head stuck in a box, remember, tomorrow is another day and another opportunity.
Who knew when I wrote that essay, that I would end up learning so much? How about you? What lessons have the animals in your life taught you?
June 29th, 2009 at 9:24 am
Wow, Barb. I feel like Squeak and I are soul-sisters!
Laurie
June 29th, 2009 at 9:57 am
Morning, Barb
I, too, am a kitty person. My cats teach me to always make time for play. Harley reminds me that there’s at least one soul who thinks my writing is esssential, if only to provide an optimum napping lap. Our kitten, Ginger, reminds me about the “King of the Bed” game we used to play as kids. She’s always “King”
June 29th, 2009 at 10:08 am
We have two cats– an orange tabby named Duck (when he was a kitten, the only noise he made sounded like a small duck quack!) and a black-and-gray tabby aptly-named Trouble. Duck is like your Cocoapuff– convinced that humans’ sole purpose is to rub his belly (and fill the food bowl, of course). Trouble is trying desperately to sprout some opposable thumbs so he can complete his takeover of the universe.
Duck sleeps on my feet at night; Trouble sleeps on my husband’s chest. And if I dare to roll over and put my cheek on my husband’s shoulder? Trouble turns around so he can smack me in the face with his tail until I move. DH is HIS human, and I shouldn’t forget that!
June 29th, 2009 at 10:30 am
Hi Barb, very fun post. Who doesn’t LOVE cats? Well, there might be a few our there who don’t, but I just can’t understand them at all.
My kitty, Ashes, (she came from our volunteer firehouse) has taught me persistence and determination. She can sit and wait for hours if need be for what she wants, breaking the time down into hours, minutes, seconds. She’s amazing. If she can do it—and prevail, so can I! Who says animals can’t communicate?
June 29th, 2009 at 10:42 am
Hey Barb, wonderful post! Huge animal lover here. I planned on being a vet until age sixteen when I was allowed to sit in on a surgery of one of our family dogs. At the first incision, I fainted…drop dead on the operating floor. My dad carried me out and said, “Uh, Sissy, maybe you should be a writer.”
With so many pets to choose from, I’ll take our current set of fancy rats, Chocolate, Chip, and Cookie. They taught me to love the unlovable.
June 29th, 2009 at 11:12 am
Hello fellow kitty lovers. My kitties (except for the poor late Ho) say hello too. It’s funny how much animals teach us without realizing it. Reading the comments reminds me that Squeak also teaches me to find the adventure and fun in life. After all, you never know what might be in that hole you stuck your head in. Of all my kitties, Ho was the most special. You had to meet him to understand. I finally had to create a character in my book based on him because — well, he would expect me to, I suppose. And Laurie – there are days when Squeak and I are soulmates too.
BTW, don’t be shy doglovers! I know your companions are teaching you lessons too.
June 29th, 2009 at 12:18 pm
I’ve always been a dog person, but I now have a “Chair Cat.” Figero shares my chair as I work, kneading my back, batting at me when he needs attention so I don’t think he’s forgotten me. He’s a card-carrying PITA, but he’s my bud. He and Wicket, my Husky/Shepherd mix, have finally been able to be in the same room so I have a dog under the desk and a cat in the chair.
I don’t write alone anymore. *G*
June 29th, 2009 at 12:45 pm
Hi Barb!
Cats are the most effective teachers of self worth and self confidence, aren’t they?
Our Nosey will not eat, will not even approach her bowls–even if they are full!–unless one of her human servants gives her an honor escort. Not kidding. When she’s hungry she will arise, and come and inform you. Woe be to you if you hesitate. She’s loving, but demanding. She’ll loudly hurry you along and if you don’t move fast enough, she’s climbing up to tell you right to your face.
“Will somebody walk the cat to her bowl?!” Yeah, never heard that one at anyone else’s house!
Once she has her escort, the little tyrant will deign to eat.
She’s a hoot!
June 29th, 2009 at 1:30 pm
I love cats. Yours are very cute!
I had an orange male that lived to 22 or 23. My parents finally had to put him down. He was my cat until I left for university when I was 18. From him, I learned the importance of relaxing. Also, when you really want something, go after it (he was a great quail hunter). His name was Braidwood.
When I got married, my first cat was a stray that showed up on my mother’s porch as a kitten. I called him Slink even though he didn’t suit the name at all, because I was planning to adopt a kitten from my sister, and her cat was small and black and pregnant. But then this stray showed up, and I couldn’t turn it away. He was a gorgeous cat, and HE brought home strays – a dead fish from the guy next door, a dead baby owl, you name it. He was killed by a car (he had a habit of suntanning in the middle of the road). He taught me to watch for traffic.
My second cat as a married woman was an ornery Siamese named Seiki. He lived to 15 and a half. From him I learned to terrorize people to get my way.
I now have my first female cat since I was a kid. Her name is Keisha, and I’m pretty much her slave. She’s taught me that it’s okay to be weird, because SHE is just as weird as I am.
You’re right, cats teach us a lot!
June 29th, 2009 at 1:46 pm
Oh yes!
Cats, and dogs, and birds and ferrets and…
They give us love and company and comfort–and they always show us a better way to face life, each in their own way.
Thank you for this post, it brings the sweetest memories.
June 29th, 2009 at 6:13 pm
Hi Barb! Wonderful post. Love the pictures. And what great names you gave all three cats. Those are great life lessons to learn from your felines. I just watched Marley and Me last night and I cried and cried and cried and it made me think of all the animals, cats and dogs mostly, that I’ve had in the past and now. I love how it ended and the narrator said something about dogs not caring if your rich or poor or boring or popular, etc., etc. They just love you no matter what.
Thanks for sharing!
June 29th, 2009 at 7:33 pm
Thanks fo all the cat love. Glad you all enjoyed the post. I haven’t seen Marley and me yet but I have a feeling I’ll bawl my eyes out when I do. And the narrator is right – dogs just love you anyway. Cats… so long as you do their bidding.
June 29th, 2009 at 7:35 pm
I never had a cat until I found Charlie, literally up a tree.
She taught me to chill.
She taught me to nap.
When chaos reigns around you, simply take a nap. It all looks better afterwards.
June 29th, 2009 at 8:54 pm
Omigosh Barb does the pic of your black kitty look like my Cujo. And yes, Cujo earned his name. That dog Marley looks like a saint compared to Cujo.
My hubby got Cujo six months before we moved in together, so I believe Cujo saw me as the enemy right from the start. Right from the moment he lunged out of a dark corner in the hallway and latched onto my leg with his teeth and wouldn’t let go. I still have the scar to prove it. When he was little he chewed through all the electrical wiring in the house and I had to repeatedly wrap every cord in electrician tape so he wouldn’t get fried, along with all of our wiring. He used to carry my pantyhose and gold necklace around in his mouth and everytime I went to put a pair on hose it had holes. He would take them right out of my hamper. He chewed the covers off all my books–which could be on my desk at the time. I couldn’t leave muffins cooling on the counter or he’d eat all the tops off of them or lick all the frosting off of cookies then puke all over them. When Cujo drank all the water from the christmas tree stand his first year and puked nonstop and pooped out tinsel, we had to get an artificial tree with garland. I was devasted, believing christmas would never be the same. And I was right. The artificial tree being lighter Cujo could tip it over and has broken numerous ornaments dear to my heart. Since my husband trained Cujo to sit, roll over, and speak to him, I know he’s an intelligent cat, and I believe he knows precisely what he is doing when he’s being naughty. I could go on all day about how naughty Cujo was. Now as he’s nearing the end of his life he’s mellowed a tad, yet he’s started going outside the litter box and I am often cleaning up his messes.
But Cujo has taught me tolerance and that everyone, nobody how nasty they can be, have good qualities. Cujo is always in tune when my husband or I aren’t feeling well and he lays there alongside us, taking care of us. So I will continue taking care of him as long as he is with us.
Thanks for the post Barb!
Beth
June 29th, 2009 at 9:15 pm
Um, sorry, that should have read “that everyone, no matter how nasty” not “nobody how nasty.” Didn’t make much sense I’m sure…
June 29th, 2009 at 9:43 pm
Hi, Barb! Sorry I’m here so late! Busy day!
I think animals can teach us a lot! I used to get headaches many times a week, and when they stopped people asked me what I changed. I said, “I got a dog.” This was always followed by confused looks. Allergies? Wait, no, reverse allergies? So, I’d have to explain that getting a dog helped me stop sweating the little stuff! Okay, I still sweat the little stuff, but she helped ground me.
Thanks for the post!
June 29th, 2009 at 10:17 pm
Does the importance of naps count? My cat and her demands for attention forces me to take breaks. Who doesn’t need a little love?
Great post! And I just read about Beth’s comments about Cujo and cracked up.
June 30th, 2009 at 3:54 am
What a sweet post, Barb! I love cats but am (sadly) allergic to them, so I get to enjoy them from afar–or in the Andrew Lloyd Webber musical version
. About family pets in general, I love how they have such unique personalities. How they’re always so willing to stop everything and make time for us overly-obsessed-with-work humans. How they seem to love nothing more than to just be held and fed…