It’s official – I am hooked, I’m addicted. Not that I’m proud of the fact but, to all the teachers in my past who lamented my unwillingness to ever finish anything, guess what, when I was created, God knew that Blogging was going to exist. It never is finished – purrrrfect!
For my entire conscious life, I have wanted a cat. Dad always said “No”, very firmly. He professed not to like them! How can that be possible? They certainly like him well enough. Anyway, the next rescue entering the mayhem of my zoo household was, of course, a cat. Sorry Litchi (remembering that she’s so scared of them, they actually get to chase her), nothing like baptism by fire. In typical style, I had to choose the one least likely to find a home. Plus, she was the only truly unhappy cat at Cat-A-Holics, the shelter at which I was volunteering at the time. I don’t know why she originally landed up in the shelter but, being the great people they are, they had found her, what they believed to be, a good new home. Problem was, the husband there didn’t appear to agree. The poor cat was brought back again because he said that she “weed in the wrong places”?!?!
Now this poor adult cat had experienced some or other trauma that got her to the shelter in the beginning, then landed up in an un-supportive home and was back at the shelter again. Where the other shelter cats at Cat-A-Holics tend to be content and happy (it really is designed to ensure that they not only have a place to live out their lives but decent lives at that), this poor beauty was truly miserable. I couldn’t leave her there. She was destined to become my next learning curve.
I had started working there in order to help increase my knowledge of cats (having grown up with and studied dogs, I felt it important to volunteer with cats, rather than dogs, in order to broaden my knowledge).
And so it was that Jangles – name chosen by mad husband (no idea why – the name that is, not the fact that he’s mad) – entered my life. My all new traumatised, scaredy cat had found her place in life and, despite his previous philosophies, my Dad’s heart. Guess who’s the first person to leave all the Bipeds to go searching her out whenever he visits?
Jangles’s story to follow in future blogs. Thanks for staying tuned