Four Stories: Four Cats

Despite the extreme wintery weather, my sheep are taking some time to leap and frolic in the paddock. The return of the sun after several cloudy overcast days, seems to have energized them. A similar behaviour is occurring in the woods behind our house. Some of the deer have been dashing through the woods, chasing each other, while others take turns cautiously creeping up to the feed pile behind our house, nibbling at the corn. They stand alert, ears straining to listen for any disturbing sounds, muscles tensed, ready to run in an instant. I continue to watch as a majestic 12 point buck emerges out of the woods. As he moves quietly to the feed corn, a crippled doe along with her fawn, moves out of his way, respectfully.
Hank,my border collie and I will visit the feed pile this afternoon and examine the tracks left in the snow, perhaps putting some more corn out. And we too will perform the ancient custom of leaping and frolicing in the snow. I have lost one of my beautiful Angora rabbits this week because of the extreme cold temperatures. So, I have brought my last remaining rabbit, Buttons, into the house to be pampered and spoiled for the remaining winter where he will thrive. I have even brought the barn cat in as his nose is bright red with the cold. I thought it might be a good time to introduce you to our cats.

Fluffy (also known as Igor)was rescued from another farm that had too many cats. When I found him, he had very frost bitten ears along with a tormenting case of ear mites. To prevent more frost bite, our vet removed what was left of his external ears. Without any ears and his deeply set yellow eyes, most people who see him, remark how ugly he is and for that reason, he is a lonely cat that receives little love and attention. Shortly after he arrived, we had to remove most of his teeth due to dental disease. It was a most fortunate day for my toothless friend when I brought home to our farm.



Golda, our next cat, is a bold and sassy girl which causes trouble between her and the other cats. She emerges out of the house each morning as if she owns the yard and everything in it. One would hardly suspect that she was a cast off at the side of the road. She is frequently guilty of publishing my posts prematurely as she walks on my keyboard.



Danny, you have already met in a previous post. After messing with a rabbit, he arrived at my door a few days later with a badly lacerated and infected eye. A rabbit's foot in the wrong direction, can leave a nasty reminder. We had to sew a button on Danny's forehead, which we attached to his third eyelid so he would have a ready made eye patch. To prevent him from scratching off his button, he wears a "buster collar" which is most upsetting to him as he cannot bathe himself and what is a cat if he can't bathe himself. Pirate Danny spends the nights prowling the house, upset that he cannot be outside hunting.



Finally, we come to Muffin. Although Muffin spends most of her time sitting at the window looking out, she can never quite summon the courage to go out. Muffin came with our house. We found her under our back porch although she had been neutered and declawed. It took quite some time before we could convince her to come into the house and once she did, we didn't see her for several days. As Muffin came with no tail, we suspect she was traumatized as a kitten. She is not a cat that one can just pick up and cuddle; you must wait for her to come to you. Sitting on my couch with a blanket folded around me, I watch Muffin attempt to walk over to me but she is looking anxiously at the folds in the blanket. She begins to place one dainty little paw down on a fold but decides it is too risky and dashes away. That is how Muffin lives in her world. She carefully considers how uncomfortable she will feel in order to seek out a brief moment of affection. We understand this and ask no more of her than she can handle.

We did not choose any of our cats. They came to us one by one, each with a unique, different story. And each new day, they tell their stories to me...always different but always the same. Since the world began, we have told stories to each other and especially to our children. A young child quickly learns of the magic of "the story" as they enter into it. It reveals to them the truth in others and in themselves, leaving a lasting presence of something wonderful, something deep. From these early days as children, we learn to listen to each other's stories and if we have learned well, we will touch the hearts of others. No matter whether you are ignored like Fluffy, bold like Danny, saucy like Golda, or deeply wounded like Muffin, you each have a story that is valuable to bring to the world, to share with others. Through the writers of the gospels, we know the attraction and power of "the story." We know that every story they told of what Jesus did in Palestine, He does today. He didn't just change lives then; He is changing lives today. His life and power remains in "the story."


Muffin...safe in the arms of love.