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tilly_stratfordHumming: Mother, John Lennon
Lyric sample:
Children
Don't do what I have done
I couldn't walk and I tried to run
Today we are going to get an appointment to neuter my cat, Missy. I have to admit I'm nervous, though I know there shouldn't be a reason to be. It's just that it's me who's been on my mother's case for months now, persuading her to neuter Missy, because I'm not ready to lose another cat to cancer because of P-pills.
"There is, incidently, no way of talking about cats that enables one to come off as a sane person."
- Dan Greenberg
That's one of the truest statements I know of. But I care deeply about cats, and I've never been so attached to any other animal until Missy. I was there when she was born, and when she opened her eyes - I ran each day home from school to check upon her and the other kitten, I lay on the floor next to the basket when I did my homework, and I never moved if one of the kittens had explored my sweater and fallen asleep in it. I get nervous when she doesn't return home, and vice versa (they told me that when I was away in the Netherlands, Missy only came home to wail outside my door)
Just to calm my nerves and enhance my weird attachment, I might as well tell you a bit of her family history. When I was very young, we took care of two cats, Sussi and Missi (the spelling differs). They had been abused by their former owners, who had kept them for cat shows (they where half siamese, with beautiful black markings). All was well, until Missi (I) was found poisoned. Until then, I would never have believed a cat could grive the way Sussi did for her sister. For months she starved herself, could never stand a closed door (she checked every room each day for her sister); Even I, as a child, could see how shattered she was. Thankfully, she overcame the grief when we found her a cat companion, Pussi (which is perfectly proper in Norwegian, by the way)
As it happens, once we were late with the cat pill, and we found out Sussi was pregnant. She gave birth (June 2000) in my parents room in a pile of my mother's blouses, and had three kittens. We named the strongest after Sussi's late sister, the second Tia Maria (I still can't remember) and the last died the next day. As I've already told, I spent every day with the kittens, making them accustomed to humans (thankfully Sussi approved) and just loving them with all my heart. I really really regret that I never took a single picture of them as kittens, and as Tia Maria disappeared a few years back (she had been given to my sister Trude) I never owned a picture of her.
Now Sussi lives in our old house with new owners, Pussi lives with my father and Missy (II) lived with me. Each night she sleeps in my room, and I can seldom sit long at the computer before she craves attention. She happens to have a stronger Siamese personality than her mother - she's very talkative indeed. My friends (aslo cat-owners) always comments it - she always makes noises to tell if she's pleased, mad, curious; Everything. I've lived with her so long I thought it was just normal cat behaviour.
Anyway, I'll leave you with a picture of her and a quote by Albert Schweitzer:
"There are two means of refuge from the miseries of life: Music and cats."
Lyric sample:
Children
Don't do what I have done
I couldn't walk and I tried to run
Today we are going to get an appointment to neuter my cat, Missy. I have to admit I'm nervous, though I know there shouldn't be a reason to be. It's just that it's me who's been on my mother's case for months now, persuading her to neuter Missy, because I'm not ready to lose another cat to cancer because of P-pills.
"There is, incidently, no way of talking about cats that enables one to come off as a sane person."
- Dan Greenberg
That's one of the truest statements I know of. But I care deeply about cats, and I've never been so attached to any other animal until Missy. I was there when she was born, and when she opened her eyes - I ran each day home from school to check upon her and the other kitten, I lay on the floor next to the basket when I did my homework, and I never moved if one of the kittens had explored my sweater and fallen asleep in it. I get nervous when she doesn't return home, and vice versa (they told me that when I was away in the Netherlands, Missy only came home to wail outside my door)
Just to calm my nerves and enhance my weird attachment, I might as well tell you a bit of her family history. When I was very young, we took care of two cats, Sussi and Missi (the spelling differs). They had been abused by their former owners, who had kept them for cat shows (they where half siamese, with beautiful black markings). All was well, until Missi (I) was found poisoned. Until then, I would never have believed a cat could grive the way Sussi did for her sister. For months she starved herself, could never stand a closed door (she checked every room each day for her sister); Even I, as a child, could see how shattered she was. Thankfully, she overcame the grief when we found her a cat companion, Pussi (which is perfectly proper in Norwegian, by the way)
As it happens, once we were late with the cat pill, and we found out Sussi was pregnant. She gave birth (June 2000) in my parents room in a pile of my mother's blouses, and had three kittens. We named the strongest after Sussi's late sister, the second Tia Maria (I still can't remember) and the last died the next day. As I've already told, I spent every day with the kittens, making them accustomed to humans (thankfully Sussi approved) and just loving them with all my heart. I really really regret that I never took a single picture of them as kittens, and as Tia Maria disappeared a few years back (she had been given to my sister Trude) I never owned a picture of her.
Now Sussi lives in our old house with new owners, Pussi lives with my father and Missy (II) lived with me. Each night she sleeps in my room, and I can seldom sit long at the computer before she craves attention. She happens to have a stronger Siamese personality than her mother - she's very talkative indeed. My friends (aslo cat-owners) always comments it - she always makes noises to tell if she's pleased, mad, curious; Everything. I've lived with her so long I thought it was just normal cat behaviour.
Anyway, I'll leave you with a picture of her and a quote by Albert Schweitzer:
"There are two means of refuge from the miseries of life: Music and cats."
