Cats are like people. Some come in to your life and make an impact … but others touch you at the centre point of your heart, a sacred space where the real you resides, a place hidden from many.

Edgar is such a cat, who by a mere meaw has your heart captivated, a feline connection beyond words.

In his death he will not be forgotten.

My Mum’s cat Edgar is a very special boy, a cuddle me cat who loves everything and everyone. Below I have had some fun – an imagined reason for his “difference,” his unfeline like air of universal friendliness.

To Edgar…

When a Cat is Not a Cat

They came, and gently they played; mischief and magic hugging each other in the air.

The Moray Firth on the northern coast of Scotland comes alive with the mystery of dolphins, beings of the night, children of the day. It throws its blessings to the wind, dolphin energy gifting us all new life.

Edgar turned over in the sun, and began to purr. Invisible soulmates surrounded his heart, blessing his brain with memories of a playful yesterday. So clearly, he recalled the sanctity of water, group games gliding through the ocean. But that yesterday was still here, in his heart, and the song of the dolphins was in his soul.

For Edgar is a special cat, he has the soul of a dolphin. In his sleep he returns to the Moray Firth, and swims with his old friends. By day he tries to play with cat cohabitants Julius and Rose, but they grow cross easily with him, their feline spirits affronted by his free abandon.

One day, he thinks, one day I will return to my real home.

Billy and Teddy’s Excellent Adventure

By Rachel H Grant

Billy and Teddy lay side by side, a ribbon of grey and black stripes, happily absorbing the sun’s rays, soft sparks of hope sighing through the window. Happiness ruled their hearts. Life was too good to be true. Dream dust settled in their chest, the residue of bliss lining their veins. For Billy and Teddy had found their perfect home.

Many cats dreamed of a feline paradise, a place where good food materialised without demand, where humans were kind, where real love existed. These cats sat stiff and cold in rescue centres, waiting for that one open-hearted visitor who would see them with tomorrow eyes and take them home. Or worse, they endured abuse at the hands of non-caring owners. But Billy and Teddy … they had struck gold.

Surely their future lay paved with unmutable golden glitter, petted purrs the music of their lives.

A strange humming tickled their ears. Billy scratched his head, as Teddy sat up, sleepy stupidity misting his eyes. An orange and blue light was leaking from under their owners’ television set, that strange slim box of bright colours that kept mum and dad transfixed, as if moving images were any substitute for enjoying a real life. But today, the strange box had something worth watching beneath it.

Together, Billy and Teddy performed a slow hunter’s dance towards the TV, senses alert as they scanned for danger. The light was brighter close up. It stunned their tired eyes. Slowly, gracefully they crouched closer. Then the light swallowed them with no remorse.

A tunnel of entrancing light engulfed Billy and Teddy. So bright, it was alive. Speeding along, doors passed them on either side, portals to magical rainbows of light beyond. Where did they lead? The dust of cat spells fell in their eyes, as the world turned in to a blurry bubble of white.

Falling, weightlessly, they landed as the tunnel disintegrated. Where were they? Their bewildered brains could not process what they saw.

Then the images came together: they were in a sitting-room, brown and green walls and a leather sofa that looked old. The only interesting detail was the television which was suspended in mid-air. An ordinary window looked out on a small garden laid to lawn; a larger window depicted an unlikely scene of snow-clad mountains in the sun.

The fattest feline they had ever seen entered the room, ginger and white and eyes glinting with inner knowing. “Hello, I’m Ambrose,” he slurred, in the mystic cat language that only they could understand.

Billy and Teddy stood erect, uncertainty and understanding battling within their brains.

“I summoned you through the energy lines of time. You travelled through a time travel loop.”

There was no answer to this madness, so Billy and Teddy remained silent, but still alert, tension in their quivering spines.

“I summoned you because only you can help. You are famous in cat history. But someone had to link our time chains together, and that turned out to be me. Ambrose, Head of Cat Healers United.”

“Healers?” mumbled Teddy. “But cats do that anyway. We don’t need a united body to represent us.”

“Of course, of course, in your time, you don’t. It is very different here in the future. The human race was attacked some time ago, and is still under constant attack or threat thereof. Aliens, beings from other worlds. Humans spent so much time creating horror films about ETs, and perhaps in so doing consciously created their future. Their destiny was dark and still is.”

“Destiny?” Billy was intrigued.

“Yes, destiny.”

Ambrose’s eyes shone with feline fanaticism. He was about to relate a wild tale to two unbelievers. But they would listen, they would learn.

“Aliens are attacking humans from the inside. It’s an airborne flu virus, designed to alter their DNA: ultimately, to change humans’ brains in to alien brains. This will vastly increase their intelligence, but will have a poisonous price. Aliens will use their new recruits to take over the Earth.” Ambrose paused for enigmatic effect.

“But there is good news. You are the future.” He paused again, grinning as only a cat can.

“Us?” Billy was bewildered.

“I am going to hand you a gift today, it is the secret of how to heal an infected human. You will then heal your own humans, giving them immunity before they are ever exposed to the future virus. They will pass their immunity to their children.”

“They don’t have a child!” cried Teddy.

“But they will, they will,” Ambrose assured them. “Yes, you are the future. You must pass on your healer skills, you must train other cats to be protectors. Between us all, cats will heal their human companions, and will – of course we will, us cats are powerful beings – we will save the world!”

He grinned once more.

“Really?” Billy was incredulous. How he wished he was still enjoying his nap in the sun.

“Yes, really. YOU are the future. I have chosen you to be the first Cat Guardians.”

He rubbed his forehead against each of them in turn. A gentle heat danced in their brains. Starts fluttered in their hearts, and their paws were hot.

“You are now attuned,” proclaimed Ambrose. “Good luck, my friends.”

He arched his back, and the mysterious tunnel of light appeared behind them. “Go now! Go and make our better future commence with no delay! May all the cat gods be with you!”

This time, the tunnel was even brighter than before, hurting their eyes. Secret doors rushed past. “Will we go through one of the doors?” whispered Teddy. “I’m sure it’s not really allowed,” countered Billy, but his curiosity was on fire.

The next door was red with black stars. They stopped. Teddy closed his eyes and felt for the door, gently pushing it. An inviting screech tickled their ears as the door opened.

A pink paradise of fluffy cushions and rose quartz lamps confronted them. An enormous tiger slept in a large cat bed of red and black stripes. Slowly it opened an eye.

“Oh, I have been disturbed,” it meowed in a bored monotone. “By two very harmless looking domestic felines. The type who can’t fend for themselves, who rely on HUMANS. Am I right?”

Billy and Teddy stared, mindlessly mouthing an affirmative mieaw.

“I am Evelina, the Queen of Tigers. I look after the souls of our poor children on Earth, the true kings of the Cat World. Why are you in this time tunnel? Has some deluded human’s pet from the future summoned you for a mission? Don’t believe them, any of them. Just enjoy your pampered food on tap life while you have it.”

“We’re meant to save humankind from a future alien virus!” blurted out Billy.

“Of course, of course.” Evelina’s eyes sparkled, and her face grinned as only a cat’s can. “Have you been attuned to a cat healing system? Let me top it up with tiger power.”

Slowly and gracefully Evelina moved her handsome body. Fear did not cross Billy or Teddy’s mind as they beheld her beguiling beauty.

“Come here,” she commanded. Slowly she rubbed each of their foreheads in turn. Fire lit behind their eyes, and their hearts leaped in joy. “Welcome to tiger magic. This will help you in your mission.”

Billy and Teddy slowly retreated, and then were floating through the tunnel once more. It seemed longer this time. Slowly they did land, once more, in their own sitting-room. Never had they been so relieved to be home.

Daily life resumed, routine balm to their mystified minds. There were toys to chase, and trees to climb. Life was good again.

But soon, they knew, they should begin to practise their new healing skills. Destiny had caught them and there was no cupboard in which to hide.

Luck laced their path, as a forlorn soul arrived, I NEED HEALING written all over his feline face. A three month black and white kitten, homeless, on the run from unknown fears. There he was, shaking in their garden, HELP ME in telepathic code within his eyes.

Teddy called him Harry, but the Humans named him Danny. And so Operation Danny began.

They rubbed and rubbed around him, ribbons of grey and black fluffiness intertwined. Danny purred blissfully. All his tomorrows were lined up, waiting for a better future.

Billy and Teddy slept happy that night, on top of each other in their bed. They shared a dream of a future where they had vanquished an alien threat to humanity. Supercats, Billy and Teddy. It was a wonderful dream. In the morning, their hearts were full of hope.

Hope hung in the air as they ran downstairs to check on Danny. But that was when hope was slayed.

A tiger cub lay in Danny’s bed, sleeping peacefully as if all his yesterdays had decided on a new golden future.

A new day had dawned, as Billy and Teddy slept in the sun once more, problems and tiger cubs chased outside, and nothing to disturb them. So they dreamt of a better future, new days that, in their own time, would be forgotten. Only the sun remained, the memory of its warm kiss alive, always, in their hearts. Nothing else mattered. Time stopped, then began again on a different path. Life was too strange to be true. And still they slept, serenity ruling their hearts.

My funniest memories of working at the cat shelter, are the times when we got the names so so wrong. Often my fault – the most beautiful grey and white kitten who I christened Laura, came back from the vet a Laurel. Likewise, grey mini god Thomas turned in to a Tina.

But Saskia was not my mistake. A beautiful brown and white wonder, who came in with two kittens. Saskia would lie calmly and patiently on the outer window shelf as the kittens remorsely climbed over her, biting and licking. A motherly saint.

But no, back from neutering at the vet – and it turns out mum was a dad! So much for the general belief that male cats don’t have much to do with their kittens. I can’t remember what she was renamed as – Simon perhaps?

The best names ever chosen? The Von Trapp family springs to mind, a mum and kittens named after the family in The Sound of Music. And I won’t forget the pre-named cats who were handed in, christened with not just a first name but a surname too!

Image courtesy of Tina Phillips at FreeDigitalPhotos.net

It has been reported in recent months by animal charities that black cats are the hardest to home. Why should this be? Okay they don’t possess the colourful muted medley of tortoiseshell and tabby cats, undoubtedly beautiful, or the joyous light orange hue of ginger cats. But I think they are more beautiful, the “lucky black cat” of superstition (see my earlier blog story) with an aura of mystery around them.

I have always loved black cats, starting at age 12 with Emily the kitten, the sweetest soul you could ever meet.

Then in later life I gave a home to rescue Lottie, my adorable FIV+ cat. Her fur glowed with inner fire up until the day she died:

My time at the cat pens is still with me, so many memories of dear feline souls.

One deserves a special mention, and he is Fudge, a creamy ginger boy with glowing green eyes, innate wisdom within.

A gentle placid soul, he enjoyed his time getting his turn in the outer corridor of the cat shelter. However it soon became apparent that his head was tilting to one side, so off to the vet he went and a tumour was found in his throat. The vet we used operated and gave much care for the next few days, but poor Fudge died.

Before he was operated on, I got an email from the shelter supervisor with an update. This advised us that Fudge would be tested for feline diseases FIV+ (Feline AIDS) and FeLV (Feline Leukaemia Virus) as part of a pre-operative check. If positive for either he would be put to sleep with no operation. Although I had not had a cat for many years, and had no intention of getting another one after my previous beautiful black cat died very suddenly from fluid in her lungs, the minute I heard this I knew that I had to offer him a home if he was indeed FIV+.

This is because my black cat was an FIV+ cat, who had been found as a stray and rehomed as an indoor cat to me to prevent spread of the disease. I believe that FIV cats should be given a second chance, as, unlike the more aggressive FeLV virus, FIV is harder to spread, usually in blood from cat bites seen in fighting. It is likely that there will always be a small percentage of the cat population with this virus, so technically any cat with outdoor access has a low risk of encountering an FIV cat, therefore it seems unfair just to euthanise the ones who have had the misfortune to be rescued by an animal charity which tests for FIV and FeLV.

I am writing a childrens novel with my old cat as the central character – a celebration of her life, and the short time we enjoyed together.

Thanks to Fudge for opening my heart, I gave a home to the next cat to come to his pen. She has brought me much happiness and I am so lucky to have such a lovely cat.

I am giving myself a goal to finish my childrens novel by end of September, when I will find a competition to enter it in to. 

Fudge was a beautiful soul. May he rest in peace.

It was a delight to see how much Bill and Ted, my brother’s kittens, have grown in the weeks since I last saw them. Their faces now have more individuality; their personalities just as playful. Billy is recovered from a wasp sting but still chasing wasps! I have started a short story about them which will be posted by the end of the week.

Meanwhile my own cat, Tessa, is beginning to assert herself, boldy fighting off a neighbouring cat the other day! A short story about her is looming too.

I met two special souls yesterday, bundles of boisterousness, hearts dipped in heaven with all the unutterable and non-describable beauty that is a kitten.

Billy and Teddy slept, played, bit (playfully) and climbed, then slept, soundly, on my lap. Such joy they impart just by being, being and only being themselves. The mystery of cats … by doing nothing, they can yet inspire.

Kittens are the promise of tomorrow, in their small bodies the wonder of life unfolds, and their quiet mieaw holds the wisdom of surrender to the silent rhythm of time.

Join them in their contentment; meditate to the symphony of purring.

May Billy and Teddy experience and enjoy the magic of life for many long long years. I hope to be part of the journey.

I return to the summer of 2002, drawn by an invisible magnet to a mystic summer, painted in pastel perfection as only memories can be. Remember the best; the rest floats away, the dust of cat litter in the wind.

There was something special about being with the cats then: a magical time of connecting with so many feline souls that live on right here, in my head. I can imagine myself one day in a nursing home, the ghosts of cats around me, the story of another time.

It was playtime at the cat pens that summer: Tango, Morgan and Spritzer had arrived. Three six month old feral kittens, adventure in their eyes, attitude in their claws. Tango golden auburn, a beautiful boy. Morgan a tabby treasure. And Spritzer, tortoiseshell, tabby and white and all shades in between, a strong spirit that bordered on madness in her eyes.

When they had their turn in the outer corridor, they raced around with glee, their wild nature appeased. They would climb on top of the doors, and chase each other around with unquenched energy.

I believe they were homed to a country home or a farm. They would be 12 now, and no doubt have long since forgotten the cat pens. But Spritzer’s fiery soul will live on there, a spark in the air, a promise of a better life to come.

On this Sunday I reflect on the many Sundays over the past decade that I gave to volunteering at the local cat shelter, before finally “retiring” at Christmas.

I am back in 2002, the year I started there, and its summer that felt as if it would never end, sunny day upon sunny day like a stack of dominos waiting to fall in to a winter that just would not come.

Bubble and Squeak were two of my favourites, brown and white kittens of around three months old. Squeak really did squeak, demanding attention and bouncing with joy on to your knee. Bubble was quieter, hiding in the scratching post and timidly accepting attention with caution in his eyes.

Both were rehomed together, so I wonder how they are now at 12 years of age? I hope they, too, enjoy many memories of a happy life. I am sure I will still recall them at the end of mine, sitting staring out the window of a nursing home and musing on these feline frolics in the photo album of the mind. Will my memories mutate by then, embellished by the imagination of time? Or will Bubble and Squeak still be in my heart, as they were then?