By Rachel H Grant

Rose lay asleep in the sun, as though the world were gone, only her dreams left behind. Slowly she purred, a feline fantasy melting like honey in her mind.

A secret was stitched deep within Rose. Her name was apt, for inside her heart beat a tiny piece of love: a real rose quartz crystal.

Exuding an aura of peace and love, her very presence was healing. Calm caressed her home and all in it. She indeed was a magical cat.

Years turned in to seconds, running timelessly through the river of life, waters of tomorrow beckoning today. The rose quartz in Rose’s heart grew in strength and purpose. A feline future unfurled, a present for posterity.

The rose quartz essence traversed Rose’s body and took on life of its own. One night, pain shot through her as one by one four sparkling rose quartz crystals forced their way from her bewildered body.

Ronald, Ryan, Raquelle and Rebecca. Her own kittens.

Only they were not cats, they were rocks: rose quartz beings in the shape of kittens, with the enigmatic look of millennia in their eyes. One by one they left her side, sidling towards the cat flap in a conspiracy of retreat.

Rose ran after them, a mother’s love blossoming in her rose quartz heart. But they were gone, disappeared in to the deep of night.

Slowly, Ronald tapped on a window with his quartz paw. A small child awoke, hair tousled, eyes blurry. Letting Ronald in, he then curled up and was fast asleep before Ronald could begin to purr. But purr he did, the molten quartz music joining the child’s dreams and soothing his mind, axing anxiety, the fear of the bullied child.

The other kittens found their own frightened children, subduing their worries with rose quartz magic. But in the morning, they were gone, moving on to who knew where, a plan of purr and play in the name of healing and harmony.

Rose looked for them, going round the garden again and again. Her heart ached as her mind prayed. Please give them back to me.

As the rose quartz kittens travelled far away, making miracles in their wake, Rose’s dream came true. She found them in the field beyond her garden. Crying in the early morning light. Three black and white kittens, small and defenceless, mieawing for a mum.

One by one she carried them by mouth to the house. The real mother lay further away, stiff and motionless, all her tomorrows frozen but the river of life flowing still in her kittens. Their life, her legacy.

Rose curled up in her box with three bundles of bliss, her heart beating in time to theirs, her love flowing from her teats in rose pink milk. The rose quartz inside her radiated warmth. Together, they slept as one, dreams united as tails entwined.

Somewhere, far away, a rose quartz kitten slept, drying a little child’s tears with purrs. The sun dawned on a day alive with the magic of mieaws. Nightmares retreated as rose pink light painted the world a better shade of peace.

Kedi is an endearing film/documentary about the free roaming cats of Istanbul.

Allow your heart to silently squeeze as you watch the simplicity and complexity of these cats’ lives: their interaction with humans, their stressful motherhoods, their cunning exploits versus their gentle affection.

The human/cat relationship stories are quietly bewitching, living proof of why humans first domesticated cats. There is a beauty behind this beneficial partnership, shining through the hardships like sugar for the soul. There are cats and kittens saved by people; but similarly, there are humans who say their wounds are healed by the love of a cat.

The city sings to a cat’s maternal mieaw and their healing purr. People’s lives interweave effortlessly with their feline friends. It is a city with a soul, a colour to life and a heart that beats like a mother cat’s as she feeds her kittens. It is a city that breathes with a mute magic.

From the gentleman restaurant cat who does not enter but scratches the window for food; to the fish loving felines; the mouse catcher; the cat with five homes. And not least, the people who feed the cat colonies, claiming it is therapy like no other.

They say that dogs are man’s best friends. If this is true, then the cat is man’s guardian, healing lives by their mere presence, mending hearts with a reticent love that is like no other.

For all cat lovers, this film is a must. A story with no end, each cat is a novel with no words, a work of art in frozen motion.

http://www.kedifilm.com

Cat from cat shelter, Aberdeen

“Most cats give birth to a litter of between one and nine kittens. The largest known litter ever produced was 19 kittens, of which 15 survived.”
[source: https://www.factretriever.com/cat-facts]

“A cat can travel at a top speed of approximately 31 mph (49 km) over a short distance.”
[source: https://www.factretriever.com/cat-facts]

By Rachel H Grant

Daisies shivered in the early morning wind.

Hamish wandered slowly through his garden, ginger fur limp, tail low and eyes lost.

Grief was his gaoler. Weeks had passed as time forgot, unlike Hamish’s pain, stuck to his soul like a leech, feeding off unshed tears.

The sun kissed the daisies, each flower containing a secret slice of light.

Tilly had been his best friend, sibling and soulmate. Each day she tenderly licked his fur, her own black body glowing in reflected love. They frolicked outside, chasing leaves in the wind. She was his always ally, until that one day she was there no more, a leaf that had blown too far.

Yellow and white mixed in a mirage of hope.

Alone, the garden was devoid of delight. He lay slowly down, staring soullessly at the daisies in the grass. Still and silent, they possessed a face of yellow joy, a home to hope. Or so he thought, mesmerised by their quiet magic.

Dreams were born in a star of yellow, as fantasies unfurled under the sun.

A day later a new cat appeared in the garden, tortoiseshell and white with wide golden eyes. She ran up to him, sniffing his nose. “Hello, I am Daisy.” A flicker of light licked at his heart, hope in the cup of sorrow.

The daisies whispered in the wind, a soft song unsung, a memory half erased.

Each day she came, and each day the flame in his heart grew stronger. Hours hurtled by, as happiness licked his insides with fire.  But one day he awoke from a deep slumber, and realised he had dreamt of Tilly. It had been so long now since he had thought of her. Guilt crept in to his gut.

The daisies opened in time to the sun, as they had done since time began, as they would do for many happy everafters. Their silent song purred in the dawn, but there were no cats to hear.

A noise came from below – was that a meow? Ears alert Hamish crept downstairs. There was a new cat in the house. Glowing ginger in the early morning light, sitting in the window and drinking in the sun’s rays as if he was a cloud in the sky, keeping his rain for another day.

His name was Hugh and he was here to stay. Hamish liked him immediately, a bond of brotherhood forming as the sun lit up their hearts.

Daisies stared at the sun above, reflections of its radiance, wishes come true in their petals.

Hamish and Hugh chased leaves in the garden, rolling in the grass and purring at the sky. They did not notice the daisies, silent audience to their glee.

One day Hamish awoke in the morning and thought of Daisy. It had been so long now, she had not come in weeks. He had forgotten her. Guilt pricked his heart, Daisy a song in his mind. Then the tune finished and his memories melted on the winds of tomorrow.

The daisies danced in the wind, quiet dreams in their hearts. It was all time to them, and no time, recall and regret a distant music in their collective heart. The sun kissed their golden centre, and for one moment happiness ruled the earth.

One daisy did not dance, golden heart like the eye of a cat, petals feeling the air like whiskers. A mute memory burned in her heart, and then was gone. The sun stroked her soul. Time stood still as the future unfurled in yellow and white.

“A cat rubs against people not only to be affectionate but also to mark out its territory with scent glands around its face. The tail area and paws also carry the cat’s scent.”

Another day to dream.  Jasper purred in his sleep, a hand caressing his ginger fur. Peace painted his features, a sublime shade of stillness.

The cancer ward was quiet. Encloaked in private thoughts, the patients welcomed belief, invisible jewels of hope, shining silently in the morning sun.

Belief and hope, a cocktail of calm. Jasper continued to purr.

For some, belief was rewarded quickly, too quickly to be a coincidence. A new spring in the step as tumours reduced in size, cancer crawling away defeated, an old man who has lost the will to live, battered by belief and hounded by hope, chanting Go, Go.

In this ward, cancer came complete with a walking stick and cough medicine, a disease that grew in dementia, forgetting one by one the bodies it had claimed.

An experiment with multiple happy endings, Jasper slept peacefully on the ward as the patients dreamt of health … and gradually found their wishes granted.

He was a miracle cat. That’s what the nurses called him. Every patient, same result. Coming to Thornton Hospital was curing them. There was no radical new treatment. Only a cat, grateful for the attention, appreciative of hugs, and silent to his clinical skill.

A scientific experiment in feline shades of affection. The results were inconclusive, but there could be no doubt of the cancer remission rate on the ward. If not the cat, then what? Cancer scientists from around the globe descended on the hospital, touching the miracle cat with awe, as if he might break.

As the patients returned home, the image of the cat was ingrained in their brain. Many could not forget, and visited their local animal shelter, leaving with a ginger cat. They might not all be special, but a new pet could do no harm.

Jasper saw many people come and go. His mind was mute with memory, so many images, so many confusing faces over the years.

He purred one day in his sleep louder than normal, as if singing to the ward. Then all was silent, as the patients slept to a song that had ended.

They could still hear him, in their dreams. In the morning a nurse found Jasper, a frozen purr on his lips. The cancer hero had purred his last.

The vet who performed the autopsy had never seen such a case. It was as if the cat had cancer of every organ, so widespread was it, a cruel disease that had claimed all but his heart. The cat of miracles had met his match. Another night to dream, another hour to hope of a better day. The cancer survivors stroked their new pets, as they fell asleep to a song from the past. In their hearts, a soft purr lingered.

By Rachel H Grant

Fact 4:

“On average, cats spend 2/3 of every day sleeping. That means a nine-year-old cat has been awake for only three years of its life.”
[source: https://www.factretriever.com/cat-facts]

Bucka: a gentle and affectionate girl, from my cat pen days.