HI! I am a cat person, but decided I would never get another cat 5 years ago. After all, I had already had all the coolest cats in the world.
Then one day, after a frequent visit to the humane society I double taked at the sick cages. She was so weak but she spoke without words or language. She looked just like the orange and white male cat I had when I was 12 and died 5 years ago, except she was female and her blue eyes reflected pink...she was all girl,,,but she had a lion mane and her only bed was either wire mesh or her litter.
I asked to hold her in a room. Her hair made my all black clothes not so stylish and I wheezed. My 5 year old asked in fear, "will she eat me?" She had been trembling in fear on my lap and looked at him and I swear she relaxed. She even laughed somehow. My boy laughed, too. He held her and for the first time she let out a weak purr.
I joked I would never have a cat named Wilhelmina. (But Wilhelm was the name of the forest road I grew up on) And just then my son said her name..."WillaMina." so sweet he spoke it she recognized it. Reminded me of pussywillows by where I was a child. She was not a kitten, but a stray with no known name and past, she was not one of the many new collie or lab puppies or newborn kitties or bunnies, but...
I told her I loved her as I do to all the animals and put her back. Once back in the car, I shuddered and felt that I had finally lost my childhood spirit. I decided that is what it is to be grown up. I didn't like it.
Sometimes the right thing to do is not what seems like is the right thing to do.
We visited her again and again. I asked, surely someone will take such a nice cat? They nodded and frowned.
Then one day, I picked her up and she was extraordinarily limp, I pet her and told her I loved her, like I do to all the animals at the shelter. The vet came and told me she had a sickness transmitted to animals not humans. The vet said she was dying mostly though from a broken heart...some animals overcome kennel cough, others succumb. I told her I loved her and left her on the counter hiding behind the computer. The secretary said, no one is really actually looking at Wilhelmina because she is so sick...no on is actually interested once they see that, but she sure has a personality. I admitted she seemed very smart. The staff smiled I did not merely comment on her beauty.
Nevertheless, I was not supposed to have a cat, and I am no child to take in a stray...I simply didn't have the money. That night, I woke from a dream, in which I saw her tiny cell, right next to the barking dog kennels, she had no bed,no blanket, only a litter and the constant barking of the dogs...and I heard her say, in response to my consistent and noncommittle,"I love you" before I put her back into her jail, she spoke,"I don't know if I love you but I am very frightened."
I got out of bed and I wept, my head between my hands. My realistic side said no but I prayed. My son woke and sat beside me. He asked if I cried for Wilhelmina and spoke gentle and kindly of her and as he spoke I remembereed what it is like to be a child.
I had saved money to get myself a bed. Instead I bought her the next day and wrapped her now completely limp body in a christmas blanket. The vet came and said she was not sure she would make it through the night, and they would refund me entirely if she died. The vet asked if I didnt want any of their healthy animals, but Wilhelminas heart was as broken as mine. The vet gave me a free comb for her, and everyone grinned heartily as we left. I was so happy, I knew I was doing what was right even if not 'realistic."
She did not eat on her own for a month. I gave her food from the vet from a syringe. Then on Easter, I got her to chase an egg yolk like a ball, which she devoured daintily. It is now summer, and she devours food like a lion, and is sleek and vocal. I often cook her unseasoned fish and milk chowder.
She sleeps like a hat above my sons head and licks his hair and fingers and toes like a kitten. She puts her feet which have toes and holds my sons hand like a person. She has her moments where she has accidents, but it was a rough beginning and we will work through it. I know she IS my sons cat, and although I know cats do not live very long, I smile when I think of her, and I tell her, someday you will fly to Heaven and tell my Kip (MY cat I had when I was a child) that I love him, and I long to see him again.
She has brought so much joy, she is from God and of that I am sure, no harm will come, and when she goes, that is where she will return, but it will not be for many years. We are a real family, and I needed her to save my childlike soul as much as she needed me to save her life. And by the way,Wilhelmina tells me she loves us every day. She also comes when called by her name, every time unless for a bath or medicine. She knows we are a real family, and that is what I have always wanted. We sleep together many nights, rolling toward each other in gratitiude of a fate that almost wasn't.
I have never regretted following my heart/soul and not my mind/maturity. It is us against the world. Wilhelmina has given me courage to hope and not just exist.
Then one day, after a frequent visit to the humane society I double taked at the sick cages. She was so weak but she spoke without words or language. She looked just like the orange and white male cat I had when I was 12 and died 5 years ago, except she was female and her blue eyes reflected pink...she was all girl,,,but she had a lion mane and her only bed was either wire mesh or her litter.
I asked to hold her in a room. Her hair made my all black clothes not so stylish and I wheezed. My 5 year old asked in fear, "will she eat me?" She had been trembling in fear on my lap and looked at him and I swear she relaxed. She even laughed somehow. My boy laughed, too. He held her and for the first time she let out a weak purr.
I joked I would never have a cat named Wilhelmina. (But Wilhelm was the name of the forest road I grew up on) And just then my son said her name..."WillaMina." so sweet he spoke it she recognized it. Reminded me of pussywillows by where I was a child. She was not a kitten, but a stray with no known name and past, she was not one of the many new collie or lab puppies or newborn kitties or bunnies, but...
I told her I loved her as I do to all the animals and put her back. Once back in the car, I shuddered and felt that I had finally lost my childhood spirit. I decided that is what it is to be grown up. I didn't like it.
Sometimes the right thing to do is not what seems like is the right thing to do.
We visited her again and again. I asked, surely someone will take such a nice cat? They nodded and frowned.
Then one day, I picked her up and she was extraordinarily limp, I pet her and told her I loved her, like I do to all the animals at the shelter. The vet came and told me she had a sickness transmitted to animals not humans. The vet said she was dying mostly though from a broken heart...some animals overcome kennel cough, others succumb. I told her I loved her and left her on the counter hiding behind the computer. The secretary said, no one is really actually looking at Wilhelmina because she is so sick...no on is actually interested once they see that, but she sure has a personality. I admitted she seemed very smart. The staff smiled I did not merely comment on her beauty.
Nevertheless, I was not supposed to have a cat, and I am no child to take in a stray...I simply didn't have the money. That night, I woke from a dream, in which I saw her tiny cell, right next to the barking dog kennels, she had no bed,no blanket, only a litter and the constant barking of the dogs...and I heard her say, in response to my consistent and noncommittle,"I love you" before I put her back into her jail, she spoke,"I don't know if I love you but I am very frightened."
I got out of bed and I wept, my head between my hands. My realistic side said no but I prayed. My son woke and sat beside me. He asked if I cried for Wilhelmina and spoke gentle and kindly of her and as he spoke I remembereed what it is like to be a child.
I had saved money to get myself a bed. Instead I bought her the next day and wrapped her now completely limp body in a christmas blanket. The vet came and said she was not sure she would make it through the night, and they would refund me entirely if she died. The vet asked if I didnt want any of their healthy animals, but Wilhelminas heart was as broken as mine. The vet gave me a free comb for her, and everyone grinned heartily as we left. I was so happy, I knew I was doing what was right even if not 'realistic."
She did not eat on her own for a month. I gave her food from the vet from a syringe. Then on Easter, I got her to chase an egg yolk like a ball, which she devoured daintily. It is now summer, and she devours food like a lion, and is sleek and vocal. I often cook her unseasoned fish and milk chowder.
She sleeps like a hat above my sons head and licks his hair and fingers and toes like a kitten. She puts her feet which have toes and holds my sons hand like a person. She has her moments where she has accidents, but it was a rough beginning and we will work through it. I know she IS my sons cat, and although I know cats do not live very long, I smile when I think of her, and I tell her, someday you will fly to Heaven and tell my Kip (MY cat I had when I was a child) that I love him, and I long to see him again.
She has brought so much joy, she is from God and of that I am sure, no harm will come, and when she goes, that is where she will return, but it will not be for many years. We are a real family, and I needed her to save my childlike soul as much as she needed me to save her life. And by the way,Wilhelmina tells me she loves us every day. She also comes when called by her name, every time unless for a bath or medicine. She knows we are a real family, and that is what I have always wanted. We sleep together many nights, rolling toward each other in gratitiude of a fate that almost wasn't.
I have never regretted following my heart/soul and not my mind/maturity. It is us against the world. Wilhelmina has given me courage to hope and not just exist.
