The Cat Saga Continues . . .
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Cleo is not the cuddly cat I would have chosen. Frankly, I’m not sure she has “chosen” us yet. But she is the cat that has come to us, seconds after I had surrendered and wrote that at the right time, the right cat would come to us. I think she had been abandoned, but that at one time she did have a good home. She does not have a chip or collar.
Cleo’s lessons are about surrendering: giving up my ideas about what I think I want, to receive whatever good is waiting for me.Update, August 28: Cleo continues to slowly warm up to us. She’s not unfriendly; she even comes when called. She just isn’t a lap cat, and may never be.
I’ve had to learn a few new things–like, how to keep her from destroying our furniture. She seems to love her scratching pad–to lie on! However, she has begun to scratch it, too.
I found a recipe for a cat deterrent spray made up of rosemary essential oil, water, and a bit of soap. It does seem to help some. We’re also trying to show her “no, not the couch” but “yes, here’s your scratch pad.”
Of course, she shows no interest in the fancy scratching post we got her, even though I scattered catnip around the base. (Joey went wild over catnip. Cleo likes it, but is not crazy about it.)
So the lessons in patience, in finding new ways to do things, in enjoying what is rather than what I wish it would be, continue. We like watching her. She will probably warm up to us more in time. At least she’s not a hider….
Update, September 6: Cleo has not warmed up to us.
This morning I realized: I don’t really like this cat. I don’t want this cat.
It was hard to admit. I have met very few cats I didn’t like, if any. But the truth was I didn’t want this cat. Perhaps I still wasn’t really “over” losing Joey. Perhaps it wasn’t the right time for another cat; my life had gotten very complicated.
What to do? I didn’t want to have to put her in a shelter. I didn’t want the hassle of trying to find another home for her.
I didn’t even have to pray about it. By the afternoon, my husband told me, “I saw Cleo running down the driveway.”
And we haven’t seen her since. Problem solved.
Grace. . . .
Good-bye, Cleo
