I’ve always had a cat. I’ve loved these creatures since early childhood. I love their mystique, their grace and delicate beauty, as well as their tenacious strength. I love the way a cat will get this “I meant to do that” look when he’s occasionally caught in an awkward stumble, or slides across a slick kitchen floor right into the refrigerator. I love purrs, meows, eyes that see in the dark, soft fur, and a tail like a flag in the air to tell you when she’s happy.
I don’t want 20 cats. I only want one, perhaps two, special cat friends living with me at any given time. They’re subtle creatures with complex personalities, who deserve individual attention. Right now I have one, named Emily. She’s a fluffy gray who showed up to steal puppy food from our patio, days after we brought our dog home.
My husband looked outside one day and saw a grayish cat stretched out on the patio, looking like a queen, licking her chops. She’d eaten the puppy food he’d left outside. As soon as he opened the sliding door she slunk away. I was out of town at the time, and he decided to start keeping the puppy food inside.
A week or so later, on the Saturday morning after I returned home, we heard a faint meow out back, the kind you expect from a kitten. It caught our attention because it sounded so forlorn, like someone begging for help. We had to find out what it was.
We went out to the backyard and looked around. At first we didn’t see anything, but we called, and a cat came out from under the patio where she’d been hiding. Standing in the dirt on trembling thin legs that could barely hold her up, was this pitiful, fawn-colored cat. She looked about as scruffy and malnourished as a cat can be and still be alive. She mewed desperately, asking for help, though she didn’t really want to come near us. Perhaps she suspected her days were numbered if she didn’t get help soon. She had great golden eyes, the most luminescent I’d ever seen. They were like fire opals.
Normally we wouldn’t feed a stray, and we already had a cat, a sleek black Siamese mix named Merlin who’d been with us for ten years. We didn’t want to adopt another. But this stray was far too much in need for us to ignore. We decided to feed her and let her remain an outdoor cat. Once she was in better shape she could decide whether to stay or go.
We fed her on the patio table. She ate a full cup of dry cat food within a short time and begged for more. She drank lots of water. She didn’t want to come near us, but we had the food.
Eventually she let us handle her, and one morning when I went out to feed her, I talked to her and she let me pet her and even pick her up for a moment. I’d seen something about the tufts of fur on her front paws that made me want a closer look. She wrestled her paws out of my hands, but I finally got a glimpse. She’d been declawed. “What happened to you?” I asked. Of course there was no answer.
Her fur was dirty, dry and brittle from undernourishment. Her fawn color bathed to clean, pale gray. After weeks of eating well it gradually darkened to a thick, luxuriant gray.
After a few weeks, concerned about coyotes, we coaxed her into the house. She was terrified of our cat, Merlin, but he welcomed her like long-lost family and did his best to gain her trust. A tentative friendship began between them. Meanwhile she continued to boss the puppy around, and still does, now that he’s ten times her size.
Emily has only half her teeth, and we’re sure at some point she was badly abused. She’s now anywhere from 14 to 16 years old and still going strong. Over time she’s healed. She still rarely jumps into a lap voluntarily, but if I pick her up she no longer panics, and she’ll sit facing me in my lap and purr, kneading with her paws for several minutes at a time. She’s sassy, bosses our big dog, and tries to rule the house, especially at mealtime, when she tends toward irrational anxiety over where her next meal is coming from.
It’s been just over six years since Emily came to us, and in that time our dear friend Merlin has passed on. We wouldn’t be the same without Emily in our lives. She’s taught us valuable lessons about survival and trust. We’re grateful we took a chance on that skinny, scruffy stray, and that she took a chance on us.
1.
It’s a little known fact that cats and dogs can eat the same food. But separate dishes are preferred, along with the parsley.
Comment by Mark — September 18, 2004 @ 6:46 am
2.
Emily is so beautiful!
I too, have a cat who was abused by a previous owner. Constant love and attention has helped heal some of her wounds. It tears me to pieces to think that there are people out there who abuse animals.
Comment by Sharon — September 19, 2004 @ 8:30 pm
3.
Mark,
Emily would agree. There’s no finicky cat in this house. She’ll eat dog food as readily as her own.
According to the Merck Veterinary Manual, cats are purely carnivorous, while dogs are omnivorous and require less protein and fat. I haven’t tried to tell our pets that. Each is sure the other gets better food.
Comment by Barbara — September 20, 2004 @ 12:05 pm
4.
Sharon,
Emily thanks you. She’s a girly-girl who likes to roll in baby powder or anything else perfumed she can find.
My guess is that she had a kind owner when she was young, and something happened to that person, after which she got stuck with a cruel or disturbed one for a while. But it’s anyone’s guess. I sometimes wonder if she ran away, choosing homelessness over cruel treatment. She’s an indoor cat now, but every now and then she slips outside, maybe to ensure she has an escape route if needed. Gentleness works wonders with her, as well as sitting facing us when she’s on a lap, so she can see what the human is up to.
Comment by Barbara — September 20, 2004 @ 12:08 pm
5.
What a wonderful story. We have Gracie, our indoor cat who was terribly abused, and I fear will never really recover, and we also have Mister, who lives in our back yard. She’s been there about 6 years now, and we feed her every day. She has a little dog house for bad weather, and she’s just a lovely cat in every way. I guess I love cats too.
Comment by cassie-b — September 25, 2004 @ 12:38 pm
6.
There’s just something about them, eh Cassie? I don’t think Emily will ever get over her starvation anxiety, and when she jumps into a lap on her own, we’re astonished and make an appropriate fuss over her. It’s very rare. But she’s sold on living in a house. We have a lot of coyotes here. I used to leave for work at 4:30 AM and I often saw them on my way out of town. My husband once met one in our driveway.
Comment by Barbara — September 25, 2004 @ 4:40 pm
7.
I was wondering, I found a cat today that is very malnourished, I tried to give it tuna, then it just drank the water around it and vomited. What did you feed Emily and how much? I want to nurse this cat back to health, but i don’t know what to do
Comment by Katy — August 20, 2008 @ 11:32 am
8.
Katy, we started Emily on a high quality dry cat food. I think at the time we were using IAMS. Now we like Felidae.
But we also had her checked out by a vet before we let her into the house with our other cat, in case she had a contagious disease. We’d lost a cat to FIP years earlier and didn’t want to risk anything like that again.
I hope that helps. I think a vet, or your local shelter, humane society, or cat rescue organization, can give you the best advice for handling a stray.
Comment by Barbara — August 20, 2008 @ 2:40 pm
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