A Matter of Trust

Today, while clearing up some papers on Cat-Dad’s desk, I ran across the personal diary of Mindy, one of our foster residents. Well, OK, in truth, it was stashed behind one of our litter boxes and I sneaked a peek while using “the necessary.” She and her brother Mork came to live with us almost 12 months ago, and are a pair with whom Cat-Dad has invested many hours of patient conditioning. Almost identical brown tabbies, he and I often chuckle together because their personalities could not be more dissimilar. Mindy is a wonderful cat, and Cat-Dad often refers to her as his “Little Firefly” because of how coy and delicately she flits around our home. This entry yesterday from her diary which I share below gives insight to differences between two individuals growing up within the same environment.

October 13, 2008 – Monday

How bold you are dear brother, sitting there on the counter calmly munching the salad greens that Cat-Dad is using to prepare his evening meal. I jump up there too, but it still just doesn’t feel right. Always I’m so nervous, so jumpy, despite the love I know he feels for us both. How long has it been? One year? Almost to the day. A lifetime when you’re only 14 months old.

Do you remember, brother, how frightened we both were? Plucked from out of the street when barely eight weeks old, the lifeless body of our sister lying there beside us. Taken to a veterinary clinic where eventually we were confined in a large cage in his waiting room. I’m sure it was well intentioned, but somewhat frightening with all those dog-patients and their owners staring; always staring… staring… at us. Was that where I first learned to fear?

Although I could never tell you this dear brother, your presence growing up with me is such a comfort, and I appreciate you so much. You have adapted quicker than me and I marvel now at the self-confidence you’ve gained. Sometimes I wonder what’s to become of us. Will we find a forever home together? Can humans have the patience to understand me? How much of the wildness inside me will I be able to control and let a forever person get beyond my walls? I see the closeness that Cat-Dad shares with so many in this foster home as each of us walks our own path of progress. The bonds of trust are firm... but not just yet for me.

How typical this sentiment is in a feline rescue/foster home, and indeed, in many human lives. Each of our residents comes to us carrying the weight of a traumatic past, and our task, in addition to repairing broken bodies, is to also mend broken hearts and minds. I’ll always remember something Ursula (a former foster resident) confided to me. One day when she was feeling particularly down, Cat-Dad took her into his arms and said,

“Ursula, every kitten can be likened to a large and fragile mirror. When a true forever person looks deeply into her soul they see reflected back a polished image of perfect love. But a traumatic start in life can shatter that looking glass into a thousand pieces leaving them frightened and wary of everything. The task of a rescue/foster person is to gently collect those broken shards and patiently work to piece them together into a beautiful mosaic pattern. Never again will you be whole, but this tessellation now reflects back many times the single image of that perfect love.”

What hurt are you or your feline companion harboring inside today? Do you feel broken in spirit or body? Time and again we have proven that foster cats and kittens can heal, and although sometimes wild at heart, are capable of the fiercest love. That love can affect their human companion in a most therapeutic way, and the joining of the two brings healing to both. In feline rescue work we are always aware of this powerful truth, and it’s a force that keeps us going.

Mindy and her brother will find loving homes with a human who understands the power of having them fulfill their destiny. It is our pledge to them; it is a pledge by which we live.

With purrs to all,

Sasha
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And God created the cat that man might know the pleasure of caressing the tiger.
- Fernand Mery