On the special Christmas when I announced my first and only pregnancy he finally came to my apartment for turkey dinner. My father was a paraplegic and travelling was painfully difficult for him, however this was now a special occasion. He’d heard me speak of my two precious males for many years and upon first meeting, he surprised me by warmly bonding with them.
Dustin, my very first cat, had been rescued when five weeks old from within the fields of a local prison by an inmate. Thomas, a sweet tabby male, I’d personally rescued six months later during a snowstorm. The boys bonded and were well matched with Thomas becoming Dustin’s devoted companion.
Thomas had been given my father’s middle name and never left my Dad’s lap the entire evening. Whether it was Thomas’ affectionate nature or possibly being his namesake my Dad appeared quite pleased by his attention. My father made a comment at the time that he’d doubted anyone else would ever carry his name. Although my father was seldom wrong, in this particular instance I had been saving a surprise for him. He lived just long enough to be told the name of his newly born grandson. Although fate may have prevented him enough time to hold my baby, it is with great pride that my son bears the name of Mark Donald.
How profound then that I feel compelled to dedicate this book of feline love stories to my father’s memory. I believe that such an awareness would provide him with the greatest pleasure and he would be quite pleased. Only recently has my mother mentioned that when I was a child she would often discover small saucers left under my bed for my latest feline guest. She would silently remove them and say nothing to my Dad, somehow sensing the importance of my feline connections. My darling father was never aware of the many pregnant queens that I snuck through my bedroom window as a young child. During the raging winter storms in Greenfield Park, Quebec, my bedroom became a pregnant queen’s haven; the dye was cast, my cat breeding career had begun.
Jasmine, age 2
A cat stretches from one end of my childhood to the other.- Blaga Dimitrova
Contents
1. The Blue Angel & Her Garden of Pets
2. My Cat Is So Insolent, She Has A Price on Her Head
9. The Condo Kitty of Rothwell Street
10. Barney, The Green Pawed Moggie
12. Claire’s Love for Her Feral Kittens
15. A Valentine’s Day to Remember
16. Caterina, Portrait of a Feline Soul Mate
Cats love one so much – more than they will allow. But they have so much wisdom they keep it to themselves.- Mary Wilkins
I’ve been an avid collector of true cat stories for many years. The first story ever told to me, The Cat in the Woods, appeared as a priceless gift in my early 20’s. It came through a surprising source with the memory of a colleague’s experiences remaining with me but left unwritten for many years. It now seems appropriate to present this vivid recollection in the first volume of Every Cat Has A Story.
I have felt like a feline magnet throughout my life as I’ve been told the most amazing and awe inspiring stories. These gems were often provided by people I had the pleasure of meeting in a curious matter of chance. Such was the case with Esther Sustersich as we stood in a long queue of book lovers one cold March morning. Her devotion for her beautiful Bowie had already compelled her to write his story. I requested if she would consider submitting her work for this book and she most graciously provided her story of Universal destiny and an unconditional love of cats.
It is also with great appreciation that I have included submissions from readers who provided their personal stories through my web site or directly to my publisher. I have felt compelled to share these true stories because as all cat people instinctively know, there is much to learn when one cat lover shares their heart with another. For me there is no greater truth than Blaga Dimitrova’s quote, “A cat stretches from one end of my childhood to the other.”
There are some people lost in the enchanting world of felines however through personal endeavour they eventually find direction, as did Emma in The Mysterious Miss Kitty. I feel blessed to have either served a role in these stories or to have had them most graciously shared with me. From trips to the gym to cashiers in grocery stores, cat questions were asked or stories provided. No doubt a favourite pair of cat earrings or the cat t-shirt I’d worn to the gym may have prompted other cat lovers to partake in feline conversations. However in other circumstances there was little evidence to suggest that I was a cat lover until the conversation began.
There is, incidentally, no way of talking about cats that enables one to come off as a sane person.- Dan Greenberg
I take pleasure in listening to many endearing feline stories shared with great enthusiasm by their owners. I watch people actually glow as they provide intimate details of their beloved cat’s idiosyncrasies.