Crazy Cat Lady

I do not believe in ghosts.  Or that the spirits of the dead can inhabit the bodies of the living.  I do, however, believe that spiritual gifts can be passed from one generation to another.

Freyja's new toy.  :-/

Now, granted, I don't recall that "talking to animals" is listed among any spiritual gifts in the New Testament.  Nevertheless, I'm thinking that, just maybe, upon her passing, my mom's uncanny and often freakish ability to connect with animals may have fallen upon my shoulders.

I mean, I held a chipmunk the other day.  That's, like, Disney Princess level animal communication, right?!

I guess maybe it's more of a mutant power than a spiritual gift.

My mom, to my recollection, was never a social butterfly.  She was certainly good with people, especially when she worked in the service industry.  But she was never, ever a "let's chat over a cappuccino" kind of girl.  Especially in her later years, I think she preferred the company of animals to people.  I mean, can you blame her?  Scroll through your Facebook feed for thirty seconds if you still wonder a person might like dogs better than humans.

My mom rescued a groundhog who had gotten his head stuck in a jelly jar.  My mom taught our adopted mutt to obey commands that she spelled.  My mom caught and freed panicked hummingbirds that had gotten trapped in our garage.  My mom had four neighborhood pups trained to line up on her porch for treats twice a day.  My mom nursed a mostly-dead tomcat back to full-fluffed, glossy and shiny health, despite repeated suggestions that she let the local vet "put that thing out of its misery".  I am fairly certain that my mom could have taught a fish to sing or a rabbit to brew her tea.  My mom had a gift.

Granted, I fell head-over-heels in love with my sweet Thor long before we lost my mom, and we adopted our snuggly Loki months before she passed away.  Yes, I cuddle them, even when I am wearing black (Thor in particular enjoys leaving his soft gray brand of fluff all over the house).  Yes, I have long, detailed conversations with them.  I also baby-talk to them.  I sometimes even let them sleep with me.  But. . .

. . .Twoper - now Freyja - didn't stroll back into my life until after my mom was gone.  I wouldn't be surprised if she'd asked God to send us just one more kitty to love - one cat to temporarily fill the void left after each of our lost pregnancies.  Three fur-babies to love.  Freyja will be getting a visit to the vet in the next few weeks, if we can set aside the money, and she'll be moving from Porch Cat to her rightful place as a Cat of Asgard.  She is certainly the gentlest cat I've ever met.  In the more than six weeks that she has been hanging around my house, not once has she scratched, swatted, or bit at Ross or me - or anyone else.  In fact, during our Geek Gala, she positioned herself like a tiny, loaf-shaped sentry in the middle of the porch and saw our guests out with a rumbly meow.  I love to cuddle with her and scratch her back.

Last week, when Ross and I were leaving Target, we encountered a man about our age holding an absolutely gorgeous gray and black kitten.  "You guys want a cat?" he asked.  I must have looked shocked, because he hurriedly continued, "I found her by Chick-Fil-A and I gave her some food and now she won't leave me alone."  Sure enough, when he placed her on the ground, she sniffed at Ross, then our truck, and rubbed up against me, but lingered nearby.  Of course I wanted her!  Ross even had the same look on his face that he did when we impulsivelyadopted Loki.  But four cats?  With one not even house-trained yet?  "I'm sorry," I said sadly, "We just adopted out local stray, or else we'd take her."  "That's what happened to us!  That's how we got our cat," the guy replied enthusiastically.  At least we could tell he was a cat-friendly person.  As we reluctantly left, I prayed that the little girl would end up in a home that really needed the unconditional love of a pet.

Loki is a Jedi.

That's the thing about cats, people.  Yes, they do have a reputation for being aloof, solitary, and, thanks to internet-sensation Tardar Sauce (AKA Grumpy Cat), even arrogant.  Some are, I guess.  Unlike those cats of world wide web fame, Loki is flat-out sociable.  She jumps into the laps of people who are trying to eat at my dinner table.  She spent all of last month's party in the middle of the living room, politely perched on a pillow or examining vacant chairs.  She plays fetch with her woefully ragged cloth mice (the last gift my mom had picked out for them before she died).  She is curious and desperately cuddly (some of the time).  Thor, I guess, is more your typical housecat.  He is irritated by changes in routine; he's possessive; he's often dismissive.  He thinks he's the alpha male, but he doesn't really act like it.  But with me, he's a bundle of loving fluff.  He curls up on my chest at night, before I go to bed, and demands that I put my phone down to nuzzle his nose.  He'll flop on the couch and watch television with me.  He lets me flip him on his back and stick my face in his bunny-soft belly fur.  He lets me clip his claws with absolutely no protest.  He even lets us bathe him

Thor is a superhero.

with minimal fuss.  And it was Thor who came to me when I learned of my friend Linda's passing, and he sat with me on the bathroom floor until I was done crying.

Freyja will  likely have her own set of quirks when she moves in.  I can't wait to see how she lets us love her, and how she shows her love in return.

Yes, this formerly skeptical girl has become a full-blown crazy cat lady.  Apparently, contrary to popular opinion, being happily married does not prevent this condition.  Even my baby sis, dog-mom to the Unreasonably Huge Mutt, Tex, admits that her recently-adopted kitten, Ranger, has wormed his way into her heart and become a part of her family much faster than she expected.

All I can say is "told you so!"