blue point siamese
What a Wednesday morning! By morning I had fallen in love with the kitten that came to my door in the early part of the night crying and desperately hungry. So hungry that when I put down a bowl of wet catfood for her, she gobbled it faster than she could eat it, sounding like she was saying thank you every bite she took, purring loud like a Siamese cat purrs, talking while she was eating, so hungry she was almost beyond eating. Twelve hours later in the morning she ate again with almost the same zeal, not quite so frenzied. In the night I fell in love with the kitten happy to be in the care of a human treating it well and the big old greatgrandma cat hissing and growling. By morning I didn't want to abandon the darling little cat that was five or six weeks old to the indifferent world. But I knew Caterpillar would never accept the kitten in her house. Never. The kitten would have a miserable life, Caterpillar threatening her with hisses and growls. I have peace at home, I told myself, and would be creating distress between the two cats and I would be distressed. The cat would grow up and start eating the birds I've been feeding over the last few years. It was too unnatural a situation to keep the kitten.
I had a hard time taking the kitten to the vet's office in Twin Oaks. I had rationalized it to the point I understood why I had to get the cat to a place to find a home. I was told they have a long waiting list for kittens. I despaired. Taking the kitten home would keep Caterpillar miserable until the kitten was gone. Then the woman at the desk saw the kitten, seeing the Asian beauty in its singularly Siamese form and colors. The kitten's face and eyes were so beautiful it pained me to look at her knowing I had to pass her on. I was just the turning point, the giant to take compassion and feed the wayfaring tiny stranger in this world only a few weeks, a gentle baby without a home, mother gone, all that went before, gone. Seeing the kitten's beauty, she decided to take the kitten. Erin gave kitten a thorough going over, flea spot, wormer, and put her in the cage by the door with a cat maybe a month older that looked at her with eyes that said, Don't come near me. I hated to leave baby with that cat glaring at it, but it was better than Caterpillar growling and hissing. They said somebody would take the kitten before the end of the day. Certainly by tomorrow if not today.
I told myself when whoever it is comes through the door and sees her, I trust it is someone looking to give a good cat a good home. I fell in love with this cat's temperament. It's attention was so immediately responsive, such a good nature, so innocent a soul in so new a body. I held her like I was holding the most precious gem, like the Hope diamond Liz Taylor owned, a soul in a new body lost in a world with coyotes looking for something to eat and a cat-killing dog living nearby. I realized my home was not necessarily a safe place for a kitten to grow up with the canine element as it stands today. I used reason to the best of my ability to convince myself the only responsible decision I can make for the cat's sake is to pass it on to someone looking for a good cat. That cat has a very high intelligence level. I wanted to raise this cat as my friend, but also knew the cat would love me too and then I die and the cat grieves and is given a new home the cat would have a hard time adjusting to. Everything pointed to passing the kitten to someone who will love it now at the beginning of it's life and give it a home. This kitten rewards love with love. It's a snuggler. The first person to hold the kitten will fall in love immediately. The kitten is that kind of precious.
By now I've almost lived through a lifetime. I am now able to see a baby, a soul in a new body as something so precious it can't be named. The same applies with a kitten. I held this little thing and it seemed the most "miraculous" anything has ever felt to me in this life. I've heard babies called miracles all my life, to the point it became meaningless, until I saw miracle in the kitten snuggling into my hands, purring, belly full and happy. The above picture I found googling Siamese cats and going to images. This is the kind of face the kitten has, nearly white fur, brown tail and feet. This looks so much like my little friend I'll let it pass for her. I'd kind of like to know who gets her, but at the same time don't want to know. I'll be wanting to go visit like a parent paying child support. I have voiced my prayers on her behalf with confidence she will have a good life. I don't need to see it, because I already see it. What a powerful emotional experience came from hearing a kitten crying at my door. At times it was painful, but all in all, it was a joyous experience. I'm grateful I'm able to care.