Good Morning All
I have just learnt a valuable lesson – never leave Chea with insufficient food to get her though the night. Because if I do she’s scratching at the kitchen door at 4.00 am. Not good enough that there are crunchies overflowing her dish, no, Chea wants soft food, preferably chicken or rabbit. She isn’t to put out by tuna or salmon but won’t look at trout, beef or lamb. And she has finally settled on Sheba cat food. The one in the small foil trays, having ditched Whiskers, Felix and is utterly disgusted by supermarket own brands. So, you lovely Sheba people, if you are reading this I think I deserve a complimentary case of your delightful cat food by way of advertising on your behalf.
Other than her picky feeding habits this little RSPCA rescued cat is, as I write, well, growing nicely, as good as gold and massive company for me when Richard is out at work on his silly three-shift-system. If I’m in the lounge Chea is in the lounge. If I’m sitting at the table writing Chea is sitting on the table by my side or curled up in the basket on the table in which I keep my writing pads etc. To date I have learnt three things of importance re Chea. 1. She can’t come down from any tree. 2. She is terrified of helicopters. 3. Never leave her with insufficient food overnight. If you take these three things into consideration she is the perfect cat. And I so nearly didn’t have her.
After losing our border collie and two cats within an eighteen month period we felt like we had had 3 ‘real’ deaths in the family and we were gutted. Devastated more like. Richard would have caved in long before me and taken in more creatures but I said no. I couldn’t get over the look from the eyes of the previous trio as they had all been put to sleep. Something about that final look drives deep into your brain and you never forget it. Often it is just a pure look of thanks. Thank you for ending my pain. Thank you for being here with me. Some things I can live with. Some things I can’t. I have a tender heart and I knew it needed a little time to heal.
We had called by the RSPCA on two occasions and looked at the cats. On both occasions we turned and walked away. Richard misty-eyed. Me convinced that I didn’t need another cat.
And then one Saturday I met up with my son at the shopping precinct for coffee and we chatted and he asked what I was doing next and I said I thought I might call in at the RSPCA on the way home and have a look at the cats/kittens. He said nothing. He knew the score. So I did. And there, sleeping and nestled beneath her two brothers was Chea. And I knew instantly, beyond that shadow of doubt that she was the one. That she needed me and I needed her. The rest, as they say, is history.
Which leads me to something that I have really only just come to realise over the past few years – when the time is right for something or someone to come into your life – it will and they will. When these things are meant to be they are meant to be. I truly believe that sometimes we should just trust in the universe, God – whatever. There is no need to knock ourselves out over these things. Wheels are already in motion. These things are destined? Who knows?
I remember one New Year’s Eve, with Richard fast asleep, standing at the front bedroom window watching fireworks exploding above the rooftops and thinking what a flipping boring, pointless New Year this is. Richard asleep. Me watching everyone else on the planet having a riotous time. This would be chalked up as totally uneventful … and then, eight weeks later, we picked up Meg, our border collie puppy who was to be in our lives for the next fourteen years. She had been born on New Year’s Eve.
Wheels in motion.
Take care my lovelies x