With crocuses pushing their bright faces above the earth, it seems the perfect time to write about Easter.
My Easter stories may differ slightly from yours. They don’t involve messiahs, passion plays, hot cross buns or colourful foiled-wrapped eggs. My story involves a young girl of four years old who wanted a bunny for Easter. Although I understand rabbits could be trained, I had visions of round chocolate pellets scattered throughout the house and they weren’t very appetizing.
We wanted to give our daughter a warm fuzzy pet, so in lieu of a rabbit, a brown tabby cat entered our life. Angelica named her 'Easter' and she has been with us for eighteen years.
Growing girls.
For a while she turned into a roly-poly. This was one of her favourite positions for belly rubs.
My feline friend upon my shoulder.
Easter-the-Beaster as she was known in her bountiful glory days.
Easter sitting in the '47 Gretsch guitar case. Without fail as soon as the guitar was removed, she jumped in there and listened to the tunes.
She finds the most comfortable way to sleep. And knows how to put these mischevious brothers (Arthur Lee Cricket & Pippin) in their place when need be. She is the Feline Matriarch and the boys know to walk a wide swath around her.
Mostly these days, she takes things slow and has shrunk in size but she is still aloof and persnickety when she feels like it.
I’m glad to be writing this post while she is still alive. We took her to the vet on Friday, I convinced myself going through the motions of doing so will make the inevitable - taking her for the last time - somehow easier. A delusion I know.
The good news is, though she is geriatric and perhaps a bit senile, she’s doing well considering she’s close to ninety in human years.
Now, in her latter years, more spiritually attuned, she seeks the light
every chance she gets.
She always gives me a warm welcome when I come in the door from work, and if I’ve been away too long, she gives me a piece of her mind. That’s how I know she’s okay. She’s turned into an old crone.
Thanks Easter, your empathy radar has always been finely tuned. Over the years any time anything bad happened, before anyone else knew, you were right there by my side. Maybe you have a bit of a saviour in you, after all.
Scarlett Sumac 2012
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Comments
*I'm off to gather up Easter to show her this post now.**
The other? not easter? looks like a cat i knew well,as
did mine, for she lived with him...and also
there was a third , who used to, & still does, give her the thrill
of her life chasing her hither & yon.
as for resurrection, every day is judgment day.
we are resurrected from the miserable cramped up
likenesses of ourselves every day...
or not..depends on our choices...
judgment is a bitch.
it's the damn Angel at the gates to eden...
The kingdoms of Experience
In the precious wind they rot
While paupers change possessions
Each one wishing for what the other has got
And the princess and the prince
Discuss what's real and what is not
It doesn't matter inside the Gates of Eden.
cats will lure us thru the gates...
so much to learn from them..
I'm always amused by those who say cats don't make the same kind of pet that dogs do (of course they don't, they're cats!) ; but they're every bit as affectionate and full of personality as their canine counterparts are, just from a feline perspective :).
Rated for the perfect examples of the Three Faces.
My allergies are even worse now so no cats but I live through people with these wonderful creatures. Loved the double trouble cats and sigh.. that last picture said it all.
HUGGGGGGGGG
Rita, Hey, thanks for catching that turn around at the end. It just sprung up the last minute I was writing this. And animals are sometimes preferable to humans! (insert *wink* emoticon)
Maureen: Yes, a dear companion. It didn't start out that way -- she was wild as a kitten!
James: Thanks for that verse from the Gates Of Eden. I think there's a few cats guarding the garden paradise.
green heron: That's true; she's had some attitude in her day but now her claws never come out and she is just there to soak up the love. I mean no offence when I say this but she reminds me of my Mum in her later years. You might be one of the few able to understand that.
jmac: Finding a cat in a Greyhound bus station ...sounds like there's a song in there somewhere, huh? :)
Gary: Thanks for coming by. And Yes, they do have souls that touch ours.
Joan: What a nice compliment for Easter. She's just a plain ole' tabby cat. I'll tell her you said she was beautiful! She'll purr for sure. xo
Seer: The Three Faces of Easter: a perfect title! Especially nice coming from a hound like you :)
A Simple Shutterbug: Brown Tabbies Unite! Thank you for coming by. That would be great if she lives into her 20's. That 's what I predict; the Vet said .. not likely. Heck, what do they know ... ;;
caroline: Long time no see, I'm coming over to check things out. We think our pets are senile meanwhile they probably think the same of us!
But seriously, 18 years is a goodly age for a cat -- or a dog, for that matter. How fortunate she is to have had a home with you and yours. And I'm guessing she knows it. 'Sides, you gotta love a cat that loves music....
(PS, the daffs are running wild in the front garden, the forsythia out front and across the creek are splashing yellow, and the wildflowers are coming up in the provincial park. Life is good.)
And the cat story is making tears drip off my chin. I am so happy for Easter to get to hear this story.
Rub her belly for me and tell her I sent it...
She seems to be a great cat in the grandest sense of the tradition. A cat with a personality all her own and a definite sunworshipper. May she be with you for a good long time, yet.
rated
Fire stays lit.
So bright.
Sunlight.
Linda: Ha -- Double Trouble. Yes, I think they get together and scheme. Trust me, I understand allergies only too well. Is there something in the Ontario air?
Bo: Hey, I'm just celebrating Easter a week early! Never thought we'd have this cat this long. She was a a barn cat and a royal pain in her early days. Glad to hear your enjoying our premature summer. Hey, that one week it was close to 80 degrees here so down in the deeper south you probably had it warmer. As an editor, I wanted to ask if the plural of Crocuses really is Croci? I just couldn't write that in my opening sentence ...
phyllis45's: Puff the Magic Kitty. That's what I'd be singing. I hope Puff lasts a long time too.
dianani: Thank You. Soon I'll have more swan pics for you.
Mission: Yes, those croci are up and smiling. I scratched her belly and told her about your old doggy too.
Shiral: Well, she is one of your own kind and in good company. Yes, it was funny to be out there calling her (she hardly goes out anymore). I had some explaining to do to the neighbours so they didn't think I was nuts.
Gabby: Nice to see you. I love that the crazy cat people are coming out of hiding. I've refrained doing this post for a long time. Yeah, I'm glad for my daughter's sake that we took so many photos. She'll be 22 and the cat has been there as far back as she remembers. And regarding the typos? No need ever to apologize ever. I knew what you meant. :)
J.P. Headline should read: Aging Feline Teaches Owner To Follow The Light
"Salad!"
Myriad: C'mon on down this way and hear these stairs creak. This house was built in 1875. And yes, sending sunshine your way this week so your 'croci' can bloom.
catch22: I think Easter is a folk-rocker. :)
Herr Rudolph: Just make sure they're not Playboy bunny ears. Cats do not like to be objectified. ;)
Erika: Sorry to hear about Panther. :( Will you/or did you get another cat? If not, there's one out there waiting for you, but I understand these things take time.
Lea: Yes, I recall your Sweetie. I remember she sits at the table with you. :)
and they guarded the Pharaohs too,
so perhaps, worthy of respect.
I believe a long lost son
of Easter hopped
a boat and
came
to Venezuela.
And, yeah, it was real warm a week or ten days ago. Naturally, the Kawasaki was in getting some work done on it. Sheesh. But today we got to walk in the provincial park, all the way to what's *almost* the southernmost point in mainland Canada (that distinction goes to Point Pelee, as you know). Beauty, eh?
janie: Yes, she does have a pretty necklace and I love when the cats "accent" the staircase. I'm sorry you are without cats. :(
Cindy: I see you both in your avatar. Ahh, sorry about that. Never easy is right.
I&I: A green-eyed kitty on board to Venezuela ... that's good. May the pharaohs keep a watchful eye. :)
BO: I've been to that very southern most tip on the mainland. It's a small tip and Lake Erie was gray and nastier than I would have preferred. After walking the Promenade in Leamington, I was re-living Erie's tales of lives taken. Didn't stay out there too long. Went back the the national park (briefly) ... that was the summer the Biting Ladybugs were in full force. You think they could have sprayed some of that Heinz ketch-up on them. Or something ... or anything!
Stathi Stahi: Hello. Yes, I hope it's a good month for you too. For some reason my photos are much clearer on my computer than when I post them. Dang!
JohnA Bayer: No kidding, huh ... they say cats don't have owners; they have slaves. :)
Abrawang: I'll take your word for it because I know you are the quintessential authority on crazy cat ladies! With your 'history', I thought you'd avoid this post altogether ...
Mary: Thanks. I thought I'd better get that story up there before the real Easter stories come. I bet you have one up your sleeve.
Easter-the Beaster, lol. I have a cat named Peanut, and I often call her Peanut-the-Beenut, which makes no sense at all. She has at least a dozen other nicknames, and I'll bet Easter does too. So glad you're letting your crazy cat woman freak flag fly!
Thinking of you, Scarlett, and of your Easter crone, bathing in each other's love and light.
anna: Yes, you've got it ...in the morning ... in the light from the east we sit together.
Jeanette: Peanut-the-Beenut ...makes perfect sense to me! I love the way you phrased the crazy cat lady letting her freak flag fly. Hey, I know ... let's fly them together.