street urchin wanted

Sunday, 6:16 am

By Kate

Jul

17

2005

Ever since Stinky died, Abbie (kitty) has re-emerged from her shell. She never did like him very much and seemed to wall herself off after he became part of the family. Once again she has blossomed. She’s always there, always wants to cuddle and snuggle. She is as loving and gentle as a cat can possibly be. She’s wonderful company, preferring to curl up with some part of her touching some part of me, wherever we both may be. She even has her own special place on my desk while I’m here.

But, you know, there is still a part of Abbie that’s missing. Or maybe it’s missing in me. There’s no profound heart connection. I think only cat people might know what I mean. It’s the kind of connection that Muddie (Mudlark), my cat of 18 years, and I had and that Stinky and I had. When a cat like that looks at you, they aren’t just looking at you, they’re looking inside you. It’s never a superficial relationship with a cat like that.

Don’t get me wrong—I love Abbie to pieces. If anything happened to her, I would be devastated. She makes every day an adventure and she is always balm in times of stress. She is all about unconditional love. But still...I miss having a cat who has that extra dimension. I’m really sorry that Abbie and I don’t connect on that level. She’s one of the sweetest cats who has ever wandered into my life.

But there’s the thing. She didn’t really wander into my life. She was selected. She didn’t select me.

Both Muddie and Stinky selected me. They were both street urchins who chose me.

I’ve been thinking, lately, that maybe it’s time for another street urchin to select me. They always do seem to come along at the worst possible moments. But when they do come along, there’s no refusing them. I have to admit that I’ve been kind of hoping. But I am also reluctant to see Abbie crawl back into her shell should another cat arrive on the scene. Which makes me think that I’ll just have to leave it up to fate. Either a cat will come along, out of the blue, and pick us to be his/her new family or we’ll carry on as we are. But I still cast a hopeful eye whenever I walk out of the house. I wonder if Abbie knows.