Sporster, Barbie, and the Cat Gods

The days are hot, long, and getting hotter. Like my jungle ancestors, I spend the  cool mornings catching up on  chores,  reminding Judy  my food  dish is  half full and  my bowl of water is hours old. In a seminar I give to anyone who will listen (Cat Care For Dummies), I’ve trained her to multi task by dribbling the kitchen faucet water while she prepares her morning coffee. I study the rivulets wiggling down the drain, as she counts, “One. Two……” If I don’t embellish in the fresh stream by the count of “Three,” she turns off the water video. I’ve learned to lap on the count of “Two.”

Food preparation and packing are the priorities these days, but I sense a tenseness in the air and it is not anticipation of our upcoming three month journey. I eavesdropped as Judy prattled on and on with her sister and her best friend as she described her nervous energy. It is what all humans whom I’ve ever confronted seem to be plagued with - trying to predict the future.

Doesn’t she know that everything happens for a reason? I know she does. I’ve heard her say it.  I want to tell her about the time I lived on the streets. Back then I was young and I hung out with Barbie, a beautiful sleek, sweet feline who prowled the neighborhood next to mine. I wanted her for my own. I envisioned us merging our territorial rights and becoming a pride to be reckoned with. We would wake the people with our wild, passionate love making and I prayed to the Cat God for him to make Barbie mine.  I promised I would never ask for anything again, if, just this once, he would grant my wish.

The Cat God never granted that wish that I wished way back then. Barbie found other interests when I was swept up by a rescuer of lost souls and taken to Judy.  Although Barbie is not in my life anymore and we never accomplished our goals to rule the neighborhood, I guess the Cat God knew what he was doing after all.

I've partied in Key West with my friend Charlie.

 

I've celebrated Thanksgiving with the Cats of New Orleans.

 

 

 
I've listened to the Aspens sing in the canyons in Utah.

 

In El Paso, Texas, I  searched for Marty Robbin's, Rosa's Cantina.

I saw Barbie the other day. She crept up to the door and called out to me. I chirped and twitched my tail in greeting when I realized it was her.  We tried to talk about old times but she could see that I had changed, and she had too. Her fur matted fur along her back smelled and her eyes sunk in her sockets. She looked like she had lived eight lives. I turned away from the screen door and gazed up at Judy as she laid back in her recliner lost in the latest rerun of, Wanted Dead or Alive. This is where I belong.  I try not to question life’s events, because I believe the Cat God knew what he was doing when  so long ago and he has his plan now. My life is the envy of cats and humans alike.

And I've been lulled  asleep  by sunsets in....

Winter Island, Massachusetts....

 

in the Florida Keys

 

and my favorite, Galveston, Oh Galveston I still hear your sea winds blowin'
 

 

 

 

So Judy, if you read this, have faith. Everything that has come before this moment is a preparation for what lies in the future. Trust and Faith in the Cat God’s plan comes naturally to me as I lick my paws and ponder my gratitude list.  Stick with me, I will help you.

 

HOLIDAY TORNADOS AND DIVINE DIRECTION

I become contemplative this time of the year. Am I thinking of Santa Kitty’s visit? Perhaps, but, my musings go deeper. After all I am a cat and a co-author.

 

 

I won’t forget this time last year when the cat gods made me confront my tornado fears. Bunked down in Summerdale, Alabama at an RV park on Christmas Eve, no visions of toys stuffed with catnip danced in my head.  Sure, the motorhome was decked with holly and my stocking and Judy’s hung from the steering wheel with care,

 

 

 

  but our emergency bags, packed and stacked by the door waited quietly in case Santa Kitty rode in on a cloud...a tunnel cloud that is. I had checked my bag to assure my food and favorite toys were not forgotten while Judy stowed away other essentials in hers.

 

Judy was warm in her sweats in front of the TV as she watched and listened to the weathermen tracking the tornado. Radar technology searched the night sky that swarmed and coiled with angry air, prepared to strike, but who knew where? I worried that Santa Kitty would arrive with a clatter and seventy mile an hour winds.

Judy’s friend Vicki   planned our escape route. Vicki would load up Tika, her little dog, and her birds, Tweetie Bird and Birdy Bird and drive to our campsite. I had always kept a close eye on my friends.

 

 

 

 

Vicki  would pick us and our cherished belongings up, then speed to the campground’s club house that provided better shelter than our home on wheels.

Sometime deep in the night the tornado touched down.... in downtown Mobile, only thirty miles away.


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The course of our lives.
Does a divine navigator take the wheel and determine our route? Are we are powerless? Or do we map out our own destinations…and suffer the potholes of our humble decisions? 

What do I know? I’m just a cat. On the outside my fur is soft and glistens in the sun.  My nose, like Rudolph’s, is bright, as if I can lead the way. My image?  I know I appear as the total package, a really cool cat. But inside? My beliefs?  I play it close to the paw, even Judy only guesses.

Because I sleep on the dash while we cover the miles to our next destination, Judy assumes I trust the process of life, that life will reveal itself. I do and it does. The day’s destination, whether it is a Walmart parking lot, an Elk’s club or an RV park with all the amenities, it is always worth the detours and flat tires along the way. I rejoice that our den on wheels offers new and exciting   smells and sights just beyond the door. Every day.

Do I choose the destination? I would like to think Judy, or someone, considers what I want to experience, like the White Sands of New Mexico, the willowy drapes of cypress in Alabama, or the fiery sunsets in Florida, Arizona and Wyoming.

I believe that we are always divinely guided and that we will always take the right turn of the road. I believe someone or something bigger and wiser than us will always make a way where there is no way.

So my friends and fans, with this rare bit of wisdom I share with you,  I will settle down for a long winter's nap.

 

Meow. Meow.

translation:

Happy Holidays to all, and to all a good night!!

 

 

 

 

Make this Holiday memorable with the gift of a book.

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