Take One Minute to Remember

Take One Minute To Remember

Today, as I do almost every day, I became quiet. I took a minute. Only a minute in which I thought about who has helped me become who I am. We all have someone who has loved us, cared about us and wanted what was best for us. We all have someone in our life who has loved us into being.

Because it was Father’s Day my thoughts turned to my mother who sheltered me and fed me when I was a kitten.  I never knew my father, but my mom made it work for me and my litter-mates   She swelled up twice her size and roared at intruders. She taught us to hide from strangers in the beginning when we were too young to judge between friend and foe.  She killed for us and we learned when to draw the line between play and the hunt.  I would like to believe my father was cut from the same pelt as my mom and that I carry his heroic and moral genes as well.

My mom taught me to help others because we are all in this game of life together, like the waves and the wind here on the Oregon coast.

For that one minute, as I do every day, I thought about my mom who nursed me and brought me into being who I am today. What ever happened to her I don’t know, but I hope she would be pleased to know the difference she made for me. 

Through her grace and strength, during the hardships of raising me, she taught me that I did not have to be king of a faraway jungle. She taught me that all I had to be was the kitten I was. She assured me that she loved and cared about me, and that she sheltered and fed because it was me she liked.  She allowed me to become the best kitten and cat I could be.

I learned that life is not about the treats, the prizes or the catnip toys that fueled the light inside me. Mom showed me that life is far more than all the trees I see, the scents I   smell, the soft, thick grass I walk upon or the bird songs I hear.

 Because of her I know in the deepest part of me that I can stand up for those invisible things, without which   animal and human kind cannot survive.

 
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Because of her, I believe that love can conquer hatred, that peace can rise up over war, and that justice can prove more powerful than greed.

The platform of life and living she built for me is made of very good stuff.  It is the foundation from which I make my choices.

Take one minute and thank whoever helped you to become the best you are. You will sleep like a kitten.

 

Please check out my first book, ACTIVATE LION MODE, book one in The Feline Fury Series. Help me to carry the life saving message of this powerful book. 

Besides, my treats are running low.

ACTIVATE LION MODE

Book One of the Feline Fury Series

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Other books by Judy Howard Available on Amazon

Fathers and Fond Memories - Roots and Broken Rules

I don’t celebrate Father’s Day.  I don’t know who my father was.  He yelled out a loud caterwaul and leaped back over the fence, leaving my mom with nothing left but  his memory and me. 
I was only a newborn but I remember the story well, as she licked my face clean and nudged me close to her.

  I dreamed of him and I wondered why he left us. I had other siblings. There were four of us. I was young but I could see the hardship of feeding us was taking its toll on mom. Listening to the mews and meows from the others stressed me,

so  I refused my meager share that mom brought home. I was only a burden. I struck out on my own.

It was rough on my own. My hunting prowess lacked experience.  A cheesy wrapper, carried by the night breeze, drifted by me, its aroma tantalizing my empty tummy. I set out on the chase. 
Suddenly from nowhere,  a big tom appeared and planted his paws in my path. His tail straight, his fur spiked. He  roared in my face. His green eyes glowed. 

I crouched. Lowering my nose to my paws, I mewed as the promise of dinner floated past. Then he spat at me. And I ran.

I dove under the trash bin as the blur of a she-cat shot past my retreat.  The yowls and screams gave me pause and I skidded to a stop.  Now it was the big tom who retreated, and the she-cat, twitching her tail and chirping, trotted towards me the wrapper between her teeth and flapping against her face.  She dropped it at my feet, slapping her paw, her beautiful soft paw, on her prize so it wouldn’t blow away.  She waited.

My surprise glued my feet in place. Hope that the hunger I had known for so long might end with this simple act from this silky, soft,warm ball of fur. 
The scent of her pulled me back to reality. She chirped again.   I devoured the cheese and chunks of fish, which clung to the waxed paper dinner plate.

Petunia changed my life.

  I no longer beat myself up. Petunia’s kindness warmed me deep inside. I didn’t have to put myself down anymore. Sure, my dad didn’t care about me, and I was a burden to my mom and my siblings, but at that moment ,when I looked into Petunia’s golden eyes, I knew she thought I was worth  something and I felt safe from the outside world. 

  I accepted my roots. I didn’t have a dad in my life but I heard stories. He was mean and brazen and he ruled the neighborhood. From the outside he was an outlaw. Yet I am not ashamed to admit, if Petunia had not appeared that night, I probably would have followed in his prowling, gigolo paw prints. We all are capable of desperate  actions during trying times.   And my mom? She loved me and did the best she could.   
I broke the rules that night. I followed Petunia home.  I decided to trust my instincts –– to trust her. Even when  all society’s rules –– the ones which labeled me as a bastard and a no-good loser ––the warnings that reminded everyone  not to trust anyone , to  be afraid, and  be practical,  rang in my ears –– I spat in the world’s face.

 I grabbed  onto my  indescribable, makes-no-sense,  feelings and I  followed her home.
I quit doubting myself. I accepted my past. And against all odds, I came to have faith that the events, the people  and she-cats or tom-cats who came into my life  were necessary and like scented trails for me to follow..

Events occur in  life….we must accept, adapt, and overcome.

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