The lessons keep on coming

It’s been such an interesting couple of weeks. To quote Rexroth, there has been both tumult and rejoicing. At the urging of some friends (of both mine and Big Mike’s) I decided to see how he would do if I tried to integrate him into the house and feline family. At first I let him roam to the bottom of the stairs, with a folding gate keeping him from mixing it up with Iggy, Claude and Lena. They stared at each other but there was no hissing.

Soon I was letting him mingle while Claude was outside on the deck, for an hour or so at a time. (Claude, as the senior citizen and resident curmudgeon, is very territorial, and the one I most worried would sharpen his claws and do some damage.)

But here’s the thing about Big Mike: he’s unaware of any of this. And is, in his own way, clumsily, sweetly, oblivious. Very innocent. So when I was sitting in the armchair, watching him tiptoe cautiously around the living room, I called to him to get up on my lap. But before I could stop him, Mike jumped up on the couch instead, and settled down on the red fleece blanket behind Claude! I held my breath, waiting for Claude to turn around and smack him, but it didn’t happen! Even after Mike sniffed his bum!  🙂

So it goes with this boy’s seemingly graced existence.

Still, the jury has not yet made its decision as to whether the best place for him is my home. I love him so dearly, but also want him to get the attention he richly deserves. I’d like to think he could get it here, but my condo is way overcrowded now, and my greatest fear is that my kitties won’t get what they need from me. Especially those who were here before this “rescue thing” became so important in my life. We shall see.

Meanwhile, it’s been four weeks since Dr. London said it could be “a few weeks to a few months” before Ginger’s mouth cancer claimed her life. And I have to say, she is seemingly unfazed by this prognosis. Every day she is a little more loving, a little happier, more trusting. I know that eating is becoming a bit of a problem for her; she gulps and drools some, but it has not impacted her formidable appetite.

Here she was today – purring like mad and doing far better than her foster mom.  🙂

Ginger 2:16

I don’t know why I get choked up – I’m now more than adjusted to the fact that she won’t be around long. Maybe I’m just humbled by the spirit of a critter who spent her life so far crouching under houses, freezing, having kittens that probably didn’t survive, dealing with cancer on her own. And how her initial hisses and fear have dissolved into affectionate purrs and rubs. It’s just simply extraordinary to witness.

As my old friend Steven Kotler wrote in his wonderful memoir, A Small Furry Prayer: Dog Rescue and the Meaning of Life, “No matter where you look nor whose testimony you hear, you’ll find none who have hunted the meaning of life in the world of animals and returned wanting.”

The lessons are there for the taking; sometimes they hurt us to the core, but they are impossible to not learn from.