“How do you know so much about him?” she asked a little puzzled. To which I replied, “His personality profile was outlined in my last published book. He was one of the foundation kittens which I profiled in my Felines by Design series.”
We had forgotten each other over time, but had reconnected over a large bag of cat food.
“He’s the best cat I’ve ever owned,” she said proudly, and thanked me again for bringing her Feline Soul Mate into her life.
Several days later while once again in the bank, I left a signed copy of my book for Gina in which Sebastian’s personality had been profiled. Although our paths have yet to cross again I knew one day I would be including her special story in this book. The inscription I wrote within her book read:
“To Gina and Sebastian, may your lives continue to be blessed by many more chance meetings… Always, Jasmine.”
- by Jasmine Kinnear
Cats are like greatness: Some people are born into cat-loving families, some achieve cats, and some have cats thrust upon them. - William H. A. Carr
In my government office I was known as the resident cat lover. My passion for felines didn’t escape many as my work station was tastefully decorated with assorted cat memorabilia. My expertise in solving cat problems circulated through the office and so commenced the blossoming of my feline therapy practice. I enjoyed and became accustomed to those colleagues with feline issues seeking my counsel during office hours.
I was working in the staff lounge one morning arranging material for employees when Susy came in to start the coffee. Although we usually avoided each other’s company, we always maintained an aura of professional decorum. This week it was Susy’s turn to keep the lounge in order, so I knew she would be in the room for a while. I had a time sensitive task to complete and decided it was best to remain even though once being in Susy's company I was always left feeling inferior.
Susy was divorced and had an eight-year-old daughter whom she saw several times a year. She preferred the social life of a single person, and had given up custody of her daughter to the child’s father. She was an attractive woman who loved fast cars, fast men, exotic vacations and the bar scene. We shared little in common as I was sensitive and engrossed in a conflict between furthering my career or finally having children of my own.
I thought at the time that Susy had probably made the right decision as she often appeared limited in compassion towards others in the office. To give up an only child was an incomprehensible act to me, however with age comes wisdom. As the years have passed and I’ve experienced more of life, I now have a better understanding of her parental decision. Susy was wise enough to know her personal limitations and that maternal self-sacrifice was not within her nature.
She was busy for a few minutes and then turned to face me. She hesitated for several seconds before she spoke, as if showing concern that she may be disturbing me. As I now recall, this was the only time in the three years we’d worked together that she’d ever initiated a conversation.
“I had something strange happen to me this weekend,” she began, “and I thought you might be able to tell me what it all meant.”
I realized she was actually troubled and indicated that I wanted to listen. As the coffee brewed she came over and started helping me compile stacks of paper into completed files. She was not known to enjoy working and freely volunteering like this was definitely out of character.
She started by saying that she and her boyfriend had just returned from a camping trip over the long weekend. About an hour before they had planned to return home her boyfriend left the campsite to load their van. Susy was relaxing and smoking a cigarette, sitting with her back against a large tree when something unexpected happened.
Speaking quietly she said, “I heard a noise behind me and turned to see this skinny cat a few feet away. The cat and I stared at each other for a few moments and then it began crying loudly. I turned away and tried to ignore it for several minutes. I was hoping it would get the message that I’m not a ‘cat person’ and just get lost.” Susy did not want to become involved and definitely was not in the mood to rescue someone’s lost pet.
The cat’s howling intensified, forcing Susy’s attention back to the feline again. Finally she fished through her backpack searching for the last of their weekend rations. Opening a small tin of luncheon meat, she reluctantly rose to her feet and placed it a short distance from the thin, desolate cat. The feline watched her cautiously but always remained at a safe distance. Susy could see that the cat was starving as she drooled just from the scent of the meat. Nourishment however was not the tabby’s immediate concern. The feral cat ignored Susy’s offering and continued howling and pacing in circles around the food.
After several minutes Susy realized the cat was trying to communicate something distressful, so she decided to follow her into the forest. Together they made their way through the thick woods for a considerable distance. Susy was not only curious but also sensed the cat’s desperation as the feral continually turned to make sure she was still being followed. The tabby made her way towards an abandoned log cabin where she jumped onto a tree branch lying next to the house.
Nearing the cabin, Susy could hear the frantic sound of starving kittens coming from beneath the house and realized the cat’s desperate plight. There had been a windstorm several days before and perhaps the mother had left the litter to hunt for food. In her absence, a tree had fallen across the entrance separating the mother from her young litter.
The feral cat remained on the tree branch as Susy leaned over the tree beside her. She had just enough room to reach under the house to pull out one kitten after another. Susy commented that the mother cat was making strange noises while the babies fearlessly came to her outstretched hand, one at a time to be lifted up to safety. During those moments Susy shared an emotional experience with this feral mother and her kittens.
When Susy had rescued the last baby, she watched as the litter of five scrawny kittens gathered around their mother. Susy dished out the luncheon meat she’d brought with her and watched as the small, starving brood quickly consumed it. The tabby queen carefully watched over her kittens and although she was probably starving herself, never touched any of the meat.
Susy stood a few feet away, watching in amazement that any cat could communicate with a human in such a manner as this feral mother had just demonstrated with her. She said the queen quietly stared at her, blinking her eyes several times, and then swiftly left with the babies following behind. When Susy returned to the campsite she confided to her boyfriend that it was an experience she’d never forget.
Susy shared this touching story of a mother’s devotion with me over thirty years ago. However what I noticed were the changes in Susy’s priorities following that encounter with the cat in the woods. After that day I never saw Susy in quite the same manner as I had before. She appeared to be a little less self-involved and seemed to show more consideration towards others. Something about that feral encounter in the woods had changed her. Several weeks later she confessed that she had adopted a tabby kitten from the local shelter.
As my knowledge of feline behaviour increased, I came to understand much of what the feral cat was trying to communicate to Susy. In retrospect it now also makes sense why Susy was the person selected by the feral queen. Other people had been camping in the area but the mother specifically wanted only Susy to help save her litter. Perhaps someone else would have trapped the feline family in an attempt to rescue them from such a difficult life. The tabby seemed to realize that Susy would help her but not interfere with the litter’s feral existence.
The