The Dogged Cat

Posted on July 30, 2019 by Pamela Knudsen

Lexington’s two front legs make a languid stretch out from under his chest; first the left, then the right with his big paws leading the way. He props himself up into a sphinx-like position, yawning as he awakes from napping on the porch. He looks at me, blinks, and says “hello” with a raspy meow. He slowly transitions into a standing position, making it evident that he’s lost muscle mass, and that movement is no longer effortless. He attempts to walk down the three stairs of the porch, but I pick him up and walk him over to the grass.

Lexington gingerly walks around the yard sniffing weeds, he gently pushes a tennis ball with his paw all the while vocalizing chirps and meows in various pitches and modulations. I watch the heart-warming scene, grateful that he’s still here and happy, even though I know certain movements are not comfortable for him. I help him as much as possible to alleviate extra stress on his little body. I lift him up onto the sofa, the bed, and transport him from the porch whenever I can. If it were up to him, he’d do everything by himself despite the discomfort, and at times, pain. Felines are stoic, like so many animals, when they are suffering. It’s their genetic connection to their wildcat cousins that mask pain to throw-off predators.

Some days he doesn’t leave the bed and he looks fatigued as he stares off at nothing in particular. I’ve often thought over the past two months that he wouldn’t make it through the summer, but here we are, two weeks past his supposed “time” according to the vet’s prognosis. Lexington stills enjoying lounging on the porch, exploring the yard, hanging out at the “local watering hole” with Bobcat.

Recently, he joined a small soiree that I had here at the cottage, warming the hearts of guests as he waltzed onto the patio then sat with friends Michael and Laura while observing the partygoers.

Lexington’s body may have cancer, but his determined spirit isn’t ready to move on just yet.

I attribute his relative well being to CBD edibles for cats made by Hempstrax, my doting attention and love, the love of Bobcat, the tranquil environment of our home, and the love, attention and prayers from friends and family.

I thank everyone for your support of my darling Lexington.

XOXO

The Motherhood of Cats

Posted on May 12, 2019 by Pamela Knudsen

Over the last few days, as I’ve read and heard “Happy Mother’s Day” sentiments, I think about how I missed that boat. I didn’t even think about wanting kids until I was in my late thirties. At that time, I had a boyfriend who didn’t want kids. Preferring a relationship to procreation, I accepted his no kids policy and never felt like I was missing out. Since the age of twenty-six, I’d been the caretaker or “mother” of cats, which must have satisfied the desire to mother children of the human kind.

Punkie at about nine months

Baby Frankie

But, when I was about forty-five, I felt a stronger yearning to have children—talk about being a late bloomer. I even entertained adopting…for about five minutes. That yearning dissipated quickly when I came to the conclusion that I had just enough energy to take care of three cats and myself.

Punkie

Topper and Lex always into mischief together.

I’ve been the mother of two or three cats for the past thirty years. Mothering cats (or dogs, goats, horses…whatever your furbaby) is much like mothering human kids. Not that I know from first-hand experience, but I do know that the same qualities in mothering human children apply to our animal children. We are here to protect, love and nurture these precious sentient beings. I’m a fierce protector of my kitties; I love them deeply, and apply discipline when needed (Boys—MY chair…for just five minutes…pawleeez).

I’ve mothered cats from kittenhood; nurtured their growth into old age and into their moment of passing—a responsibility and duty I take seriously.

Three cat night… From the top: Topper, Lexington and Bobcat.

Lexington and Cat Lady

Over the years, many people have expressed amazement when meeting my cats at their friendly and peaceful dispositions. All six cats have (or had) very different personalities and backgrounds. It’s how they’ve been raised, I say.

Miss Bella

Topper

Bobcat

Happy Mother’s Day to All!

I Have Cats…Not Kids

Posted on May 14, 2017 by Pamela Knudsen

After a guest spot on Laguna’s very own radio station, KX93.5 yesterday morning during which I educated listeners about our local cat sanctuary, the Blue Bell Foundation for Cats, I went to the Farmer’s Market to buy some fresh flowers. The vendor thanked me and cheerfully said, “Happy Mother’s Day!” I could have informed her that I don’t have any children, which I’ve done before in response to Mother’s Day well wishes from strangers. Rather, I smiled and said, “Thank you—you too!”

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I chose cats over kids. It wasn’t a conscious decision; I just never had the kid calling when I was in my 20s, when most women want to have babies. It hit me when I was about 38 and with a boyfriend who didn’t want children. I had two cats at the time, Punkie and Frankie and reasoned that they satisfied my later-in-life calling to have babies.

punkie and pam

Baby Frankie

That worked until we broke-up about four years later, leaving me single, in my early 40s and the yearning to have a baby came back. I entertained adoption…for about five minutes. A single woman working a paralegal job with long hours taking on a baby…I looked at Punkie and Frankie and thought, I have children. They were furry, had tails and said “meow” instead of “mommy” but they needed my love, attention and care; and I found great reward in providing all that to them. And in return, I received unconditional love, joy, and had a sense of duty that a mom of a human baby might have. I realized I was okay without kids. I had a full and rewarding life and I would use my caretaking “mommy” skills on cats and the kids in my life that weren’t mine.

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