This is a picture of Queen Smokie. She is one of our two indoor cats. I am going to tell you her story today.
Ever since we moved here in 2002 there have been cats, cats outside and on one or two occasions, inside cats. We always name them, and feed them. Many of them are never even tame enough to pet. They are beneficial in keeping the mice and snake and mole populations under control, plus - well, we like cats.
Several years ago, in July, 2009, Roger went to the dump and after putting our garbage in the dumpster he was picking up trash that was littering the gravel area around the dumpsters. There was a plastic Walmart bag, and when he picked it up it moved. Inside was a very young, very dirty, very weak, solid black kitten.
He brought her home.
All of my life I have heard that people are especially cruel to black cats, that they are seen as being evil. Familiars of witches. Bad luck. This was the first time I had seen such cruelty in action. It sickened me.
I went to town and bought cat stuff. And we named her Smokie.
She has become such an important part of our lives. She "talks" to us. She sleeps on us on occasion. She sits on the corner of the Baker's Rack in the kitchen and pats my ass while I am cooking. She fights with the calico Mabon. Then they groom one another and curl up and look like Yin and Yang.
I buy her fluffy towels to sleep on. She really likes fluffy soft towels that smell of lavender. We give her and Mabon boxes to sit in, and laugh when they sit and stare out the windows at the birds and make funny sounds. She hides when it thunders, and walks over and around you dozens of times before settling in at the foot of the bed. She despises too much stuff on a tabletop in the living room and will nonchalantly push off offending items.
I am so thankful that she has decided we make good people for her. She adds a dimension of joy to my life that is hard to explain, even when she totally pisses me off when she sits on the mattress pad and won't let me make the bed.
I am thankful for the cats in my life because they help give me purpose and in return I can give them love and security in a world where they have been rejected and, in Smokie's case, tossed away like garbage.