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By Kathleen Brooks
Mineral, Virginia
It had taken her three years to come this far, but there she was sitting quietly cleaning her face and paws. I was amazed watching her. Every few minutes she’d stop and look at me as if to ask; what are you staring at? Haven’t you ever seen a cat take a bath before?
She’d arrived three years ago, early one spring morning. I noticed her sitting on the handrail on my back deck as I was preparing to feed my own cats. She was a tortoise shell cat and as soon as I put my hand on the doorknob she dashed down the stairs and out of sight. Must be the neighbors’ cat I thought. That evening she was back, but once again, she skittered away as soon as she saw me. This went on for several more days. I’d asked all my neighbors if they were missing a cat, but it seemed all of their cats were home. By the following week I’d started putting an extra dish of food out. She’d creep up the stairs to eat once all my cats were done and we were back inside.
All summer long I tried to get my hands on her but she was having no parts of that. She was strange. I called her ‘skizo’ cat. Not out loud though; I didn’t want to add to her paranoia. If I looked her directly in the eyes she’s run, so I quit making eye contact and would gaze off into the distance when I talked to her. I always asked her why she was frightened and where she had come from, with no response on her part. She’s dash off if I moved too fast or if I was standing up so I would sit down while she watched from a safe distance. This became our ritual. During the summer she would sleep on the handrail until the heat of the day would chase her into the shade. Summer turned to fall and still I’d never touched her. I wondered why she stayed around. When the weather started to get cooler I worried that she’d be cold while my cats would be sleeping safe and warm inside. On one snowy night I looked outside to see her sitting on the railing covered in snow. She opened her eyes and glanced in my direction. Would she just be frozen there in the morning? I had put a small house on the front porch with a heating pad in it hoping she might discover it but she didn’t want to leave the back deck. Something during the night, with the north wind blowing, she must have gotten up enough courage to find a warmer place to sleep because when I checked the little house I saw her curled up inside with my oldest cat. Both sound asleep. I’d sleep better tonight, too.
She must have belonged to someone who just didn’t want her anymore and decided to leave her at my house. I figure she’s been spayed because she hasn’t had any kittens and I don’t believe she’s very old-maybe six or seven. She’s come a long way. She will look at me now and I have even picked her up a time or two, just a few inches off the ground but she doesn’t seem to mind too much. She loves for me to pet her and will rub up against me purring the whole time. The day she ventured into the house I knew that it wouldn’t be long before she’d be sleeping in one of the chairs just like the other cats. But for now she doesn’t want me to close the door while she’s inside. As long as she knows she can return to the safe deck, she’s fine. Who in the world would abandon a sweet cat like her? I suppose I’ll never know, but it doesn’t matter now, she has a home for as long as she wants to stay.
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