The Price of Fear

It's often been said that humans are born with only two innate fears, that of falling and of loud noises. All others are simply learned responses. And while I wouldn't think falling is a fear we cats necessarily have (we worked that one out centuries ago being always able to land on our feet), we do share a human dislike and fear of loud noises. Beyond that, cats are subject to a variety of other learned emotions, and nowhere will you find a greater variety of these than in a feline rescue/foster home. Our patients and residents come to us with histories of abuse, human betrayal, and hardship - all difficult, emotion stimulating experiences. These learned and unnatural fears suck the joy out of life and can condemn both cats and humans to living life at half its potential.

And so it is with my friend, Scotty.


Scotty was brought to this safe environment four long years ago with severe emotional disturbances. I remember as just a kitten admiring him for his beautiful fur and hoping that one day mine could be so soft and luxuriant. This cat was originally from the streets, where he'd been existing on the outskirts of a feral colony, stealing bits of their food to survive. But never was he accepted into the group. The notches torn into his right ear bear witness to the reception he often received from other cats. As a kitten, such rejection cemented within him the permanent deep-seated fear of others, and that is the singular reason why he still remains in foster care today. For all these years, Cat-Dad and eventually I, too, worked with Scotty attempting to break through that wall of emotion to demonstrate the wonderful loving relationship that is possible between feline and human.

The going has been tortuous and slow, but a strange milestone has now been reached. In his mind, Scotty has developed an unusual dichotomy. Fearful of humans by day, at night he is the first to respond to Cat-Dad’s call when the lights are dimmed for sleep. Here, in the dark, a flood of pent up warmth and affection is released, on cats and Cat-Dad alike. This behavior confirms that our efforts have not been in vain, and also that such deep-seated trauma will eventually be healed.

Yet when daylight comes, the terrible memories and old fears return.

In this home we teach the truth that while pain in life is inevitable, suffering is a characteristic always within our control. How desirous we are of helping Scotty to reach that total trust upon which is built true feline-human relationships. But for now, despite everything he is choosing not to have, we accept him for who he is. Cat-Dad and I will continue to work toward that time when Scotty can find his forever human and no longer feel the need to pay the price of fear.

With purrs to all,

Sasha
------
Fear makes the wolf bigger than he is.
- German Proverb

The Mark of Respect

On this first day in North America of Ramadan 2009, it seems fitting to recognize the relationship which the Muslim world has always had with felines.

Respect for all animals is a fundamental tenet of the Islamic Faith, and this is underscored by the Prophet Mohammad's deep love for cats. One legend widely circulated describes an incident where a deadly snake had crawled into the Prophet's robes but was quickly killed by his tabby cat, Muezza. Ever grateful, one day when Mohammad awoke for prayers, he noticed Muezza sleeping on his sleeve. Rather than disturb the cat, he cut the sleeve from his robe and allowed him to remain while he attended prayers. Upon the Prophet's return, Muezza woke and bowed to him, whereupon Mohammad stroked the cat's head four times. This conferred upon the cat seven lives and the ability to right himself when falling (recall, cats always land on their feet). The mark of the Prophet's stroking can still be seen to this day in tabby cats as an "M" on the forehead as a reminder to all that cats are always to be loved and respected.

The history of my ancestors has not always been a happy one in regard to their treatment by humans. Certainly, we in feline rescue continue to see this vestigial cruelty to cats that some people still display, and it saddens my heart to think of it. All creatures - humans included - are entitled to fundamental respect. And regardless of your personal beliefs, this is an inherent value in people and cats everywhere.

One may think of it as bearing the sign, whether that is of an "M" in the case of us cats, or a mark less visible carried in the soul of man. It is our felinity and their humanity to bear such marks and live a life true to its meaning.


Indeed, if you look closely, you will see that I, too, carry this mark, even though I am a tortoiseshell cat. This picture which Cat-Dad recently took while I was sleeping illustrates that half of the "M" is permanently visible on my forehead in orange. This can be seen in additional pictures posted of me as well. While the other half of this mark cannot be seen, as truly may be the case for countless types of cats other than tabby, in my heart I know it is there.

In this sacred time of purification, empathy for others, and encouragement of charity and generosity, may we strive to renew our pledge to respect and care for all those whom life has placed in our path.

With purrs to all,

Sasha
------
Past the seeker as he prayed came the crippled and the beggar and the beaten. And seeing them he cried... "Great God, how is it that a loving creator can see such things and yet do nothing about them?" God said, "I did do something, I made you."
- Author Unknown

Relationship Skills

Since I am the Director of Feline-Human Relations for Cat-Dad Enterprises, I would like to be able to tell you that my resume is impressive with academic studies and published scholarly papers on this subject; but alas, it is not. Seeing the relationship that Cat-Dad and I have might make you think I have this whole feline-human thing worked out; but alas once again, I do not.

So how did I come to achieve this position? In truth, my sole qualification for the post is the experiential knowledge I have gained over my five years living here, and the deeper unexplainable emotional bond that penetrates to the very root of my soul. There is something in my heritage as a cat that has been reached, and it is this that cries out to be expressed. Call it instinct if you like, but it is what makes me happy to be Cat-Dad's companion. It's what draws me to be on his shoulders in the morning when he shaves, during the day when he calls to me for a hug, at night before he sleeps, and when the transition comes upon us.

It's very difficult for me to explain the feelings I have whenever I sit on his shoulders. Had my family not been rescued from the Shelter where I was born and brought to Cat-Dad's home, my life - had I even been permitted to live - would have been very different. But now I have a position of importance training other felines in the art of relationship building. That is an awesome responsibility, since so many of our charges have been cruelly betrayed by humans.

My training program is mostly by example, which is already a part of me. For those who come to us in deep emotional pain, I find that such modeling is more effective than ever trying to explain. They see our expressions of love and mutual support. All who passs through this home soon realize the importance of having a loving forever companion, someone who will understand the grief and the pain of our past, but who will help us to move on and build a whole new life.

When I was asked to write the final chapter for our book, Cat-Dad's Kitten Chronicles, I chose to end it with an example. That example was my attempt to suffice for words in conveying my relationship with Cat-Dad, and I believe it is still quite valid. I described how I would lay my head on his chest and simply listen to the beat of his heart. Soon, unconsciously, my own heart would slow until we became a perfectly synchronized 2:1 rhythm. Two hearts beating as one so that I could no longer distinguish between them. It is such times lying next to him doing absolutely nothing that means absolutely everything to me.

And that is the only way I know to describe how true feline-human relations should be.

With purrs to all,

Sasha
------
To the world you may be but one, but to one you may be the world.
-Author Unknown

Of Tulips and Kittens

Springtime has come and with it, the perennial blooming of flowers and littering of kittens. Among the April flowers are the stately, generally mono-colored, purebred icons known as Darwin Tulips. Standing majestic and tall with full broad flowers, they are the typical image that comes to mind when one hears the word, "tulip." But how many know these purebred monochromatic strains are more artifacts of man's manipulation and selective breeding than the true state of the original flower and its modifications by nature?

Tulips are an ancient species that originated, not in Holland nor even in Turkey, as many may think, but rather in the colder, dryer parts of Russia and Central Asia. From the steppes and mountainous regions of the Caucasus, they were brought to Turkey around 1000 A.D. But it wasn't until Sultan Suleiman I (1494-1566), ruler of the Ottoman Empire, popularized tulips by cultivating them in the capital city of Constantinople (Istanbul) as a symbol of his wealth and power. During those early years, an inhabitant of Persia could literally lose his head for stealing a single bulb! Nonetheless, tulips did eventually spread throughout the expanding Persian-Turkish Empire.

Following import from Turkey to Holland in the mid-1500's, an unusual quirk of nature resulted in the creation of dramatic variegated patterns in these flowers; patterns that were highly prized by the Dutch. The seemingly unpredictable outcome became known as "feathering", and today their genetically stabilized likeness is what horticulturists term Rembrandt Tulips. Smaller and more delicate, each flower is a veritable masterpiece.

How similar is the case with the kittens in our rescue groups. They are not the monochromatic purebred cats with papered pedigrees who register with societies and travel the country competing for ribbons. Rather, like the tulip, they are the smaller variety impacted by forces beyond their control that shape them into highly unique individuals. "Dog-people" especially will marvel that within a litter of six kittens, each can look so uniquely different. In my last post titled Choices, I included a photo of myself when I was only five weeks old. This prompted me to go through the entire family album and I found this picture which illustrates quite well the diversity of colors and patterns that kittens of the street may have. Can you find me in the pile? (click on picture to enlarge) Hint: I have some white toes at the ends of my outstretched back legs. If that's not enough, remember I'm a split-faced tortoiseshell.

Characteristically upside down, arms folded across his chest bat-like is my brother Vladimir, pure black. On the other side of me is Shere-Khan, with the color and markings of a Bengal tiger. Next to him is my beautiful sister Deirdre, a black and silver tabby "No common child..." (as is told in the legend). On top of her is Khia, my black and white marked sister whose mantra always was "To go where no kitten has gone before." Mocha has chocolate and coffee stripes on her coat of French vanilla, and you can just make out the warm swirls of red and brown and orange of Carmella's striped and spotted coat. Truly, just like Rembrandt Tulips, each one of my siblings has been painted by the hand of God.

But where tulips and kittens differ is on the inside. While both are beautiful on the outside, our true uniqueness lies within the variegated personalities each of us has been given. We have an inner strength that comes from a heritage of the wild forcing us to survive where life can be marginal. Our differences we embrace, knowing that people, too, are unique and that many have been forced to live though similarly difficult circumstances. In rescue we do rest assured that for every kitten, there is one special human with whom we will be a perfect match for many springtimes yet to come.

With purrs to all,

Sasha
------
Every feline is a masterpiece.
- Leonardo da Vinci

Choices

I've often been asked by our incoming patients why it is that I decided to spend my life working at Cat-Dad's side to help other cats and kittens less fortunate than me. The answer to that question goes all the way back to when I was just five weeks old.

I may have mentioned that my brothers and sisters and I were all born in an animal shelter, and were brought to Cat-Dad's home when only four days old. My mother, Nakindi, had been taken there because her people no longer wanted her now that she was about to give birth. Four of the six of us survived that birth situation, and as a new mother, Nakindi was given three additional orphans at the shelter for whom to care. So mom now had seven of us kittens.

Naturally, I have little memory of these events, but both my mother and Cat-Dad have described them to me. Unfortunately, she was very traumatized by being abandoned especially in her time of greatest need. It took months and even years before she would fully trust another human.

But what I do remember growing up is how Cat-Dad would sit on the floor and tell us stories. One time he spoke of his two previous friends, Chloe and Anastasia (whom he affectionately called Annie), two sisters who had lived with him for twenty years. Just that past year in different months, both had been called home. I remember being so moved by the pain in his voice that I climbed up onto him, put my arm around him as far as it would go, and looked straight into his eyes. Here was a human I needed to rescue. There was no question in my mind, even at five weeks old. Right there I made the choice to care for Cat-Dad for the rest of my life.

As time went on, I came to realize he was not alone. There are thousands, perhaps millions of humans out there in desperate need of rescue. It was at that point I made a second choice, to do everything I possibly could to help Cat-Dad in his work of rehabilitating cats and kittens so that we could then rescue these poor unfortunate people. My role became one of working with adult cats who came to our home, comforting and modeling how true feline-human relations should be. I worked with motherless kittens, who frightened and anxious had no understanding why life had dealt them such a raw deal by prematurely taking their mother away. In both cases what was needed was kindness and understanding.

There are many roles I have in life but the choice to be Cat-Dad's devoted friend will always remain my first. He's often told me that although we can never go back and make a new beginning in life, anyone can start from now and choose to make a brand new end. I intend to continue making the right choices so that when my end comes, I will know it is better than where I began.

I invite all of you, dear readers, to join me in that choice.

With purrs to all,

Sasha
------
There is a choice you have to make in everything you do, so keep in mind that in the end, the choice you make, makes you!
- John Wooden

Embrace the Mouse

As long as I can remember, Cat-Dad has provided us with toys. Ping-pong balls that bounce along hardwood floors, crinkly toys that make crinkly sounds, and track-ball games where a ball whizzes around a track when we bat at it. But my personal favorite has always been small soft mice with their leather tails. I have stalked these mice, pounced upon them from hiding places, and tossed them high into the air. Why do I do this? I cannot say. From some primeval memory, I just know it is my place to hunt, and the mouse's place to be hunted. I know these mice are not real, yet that does not diminish my purpose. It is the idea more than reality of what it is I must do.

Sometimes I ponder this late at night when Cat-Dad is soundly sleeping but many of us are still wide awake. How came we out of the wild to bond in love and friendship with our human companions? It began some five thousand years ago, but through all those years we have never forgotten our heritage. Each night it is reborn in every fiber of our being. The spirit of the hunt. That double life that each of us leads, loving companion to our humans by day, and predator of our realm by night. Even the most domesticated of us feels its call.

Predator of the night, yet just as fierce in our love and friendship. Which is real? Which is not? How can both exist together? Little time is lost in wonder as true reality is created in our minds. The hunt; the kill. Only a stuffed piece of cloth in the likeness of a mouse. But in our minds, the scenario plays itself out with all the realism of life.

With the first rays of dawn, the transition is upon us once again, and happily I climb into Cat-Dad's bed. I seek the comfort of his embrace as he reaches out to me in his sleep. I too close my eyes and am content to be his loving friend.

And all the while, the mouse in silence waits, knowing that the night will come again.

With purrs to all,

Sasha
------
Everything you can imagine is real.
- Pablo Picasso