Books, Music and More

Posted on April 30, 2021 by Pamela Knudsen

Getting to know Samantha has been not only entertaining but also very enlightening. It turns out that Samantha and I have quite a bit in common:

Samantha the Bookworm. Although I tend to be drawn to historical fiction and memoir, with my most recent favorite good read, The Giver of Stars by Jojo Moyes, Samantha sticks to books that contain the word “cat” in the title, with her favorite being Men & Cats by Marie-Eva Gatuingt.

Music. Who knew that Samantha would be into music? I now get a helping paw when picking out CDs. In the below photo she selected a CD by the Rolling Stones, Forty Licks. After that we played Live at Blues Alley by Eva Cassidy (one of my favorite female vocalists—you must hear her arrangement of “Over the Rainbow”), which includes a sassy rendition of “Stormy Monday.” Some of Samantha’s favorite musical talents include Cat Stevens, The Pussycat Dolls, and The Animals, and her eyes light up when she hears Tom Jones belting out “What’s New Pussycat?”.

Yoga Kitty. Samantha amazes me with her flexibility and determination to hold an asana (yoga pose). And when I roll out the yoga mat she is right there with me watching my every move. When I’m in downward dog pose, Samantha reclines underneath me, forcing me to hold the pose as long as possible. And although she does a mean downward dog herself, I think her favorite pose is shavasana (a relaxing, meditative pose at the end of a yoga session).

Asana entitled: Spiralled Head to Knee

Shavasana

Cat Dancing. When I dance around the house, Samantha prances along with me. She even has ballet in her genes like Cat Lady, often standing in a perfect first position, and becomes mesmerized with the ballet steps I can still execute, especially pas de chat (cat’s step).

Vintage Furniture. Besides the bookcase, Samantha has a thing for the vintage chair where she spends hours on and under this lovely piece.

Samantha is purrrfect for me in a different way from Bobcat, Lexington, or any other of my beloved cats. We are both starting new chapters of our lives together. We’re both recovering from surgery and helping each other heal from recent trauma; for me—a life threatening disease and for her, negligence by her former owner (I will not dignify that woman by calling her a cat mom).

I look forward to our growing bond, our respective transformations, and to seeing where our lives together will lead us.

My Funny Feline Valentine

Posted on February 16, 2020 by Pamela Knudsen

Curious about the origin of Valentine’s Day, I did a little research and learned that according to ancient legend, initially Valentine’s Day was a spin-off of a Roman fertility festival that was celebrated in February known as “Lupercalia.” This pagan celebration involved sacrifices and matchmaking to keep evil spirits and infertility at bay. Apparently this festival did not involve sending flowers and chocolates to your heart’s desire.

Somehow along the way, it morphed into the celebration of romantic love. And depending on which rendition of the tale you read, the evolution of Valentine’s Day involves a priest named Valentine persecuted for doing heroic deeds in the name of love. By the Victorian era, sending love notes, or “Valentines” to your sweetheart became the Valentine’s Day celebration staple to honor the Saint who died to keep love alive.

And here I thought it was just an overly hyped Hallmark holiday, which has the capacity to make one feel a little left out of the celebration when single.

The way I see it, love comes in many forms and if a single person, such as myself, happens to be sans romantic love on February 14^th, well, heck, then I say celebrate the abounding love that is all around you, which doesn’t have to be limited to the love of a boyfriend/girlfriend or husband/wife. The love we receive from and give to our family and friends should count. And the love we give to and receive from our furry family members is sometimes the deepest love of all.

Lexington, I still can’t believe you are not of this world anymore. I’m adjusting, but will love you always and miss you dearly.

Bobcat, my dear, this year, thank you for being…

My funny valentine

Sweet comic valentine

You make me smile with my heart

Your looks are laughable

Yet, photographable and my favorite work of art…

(a minor alteration of how the song goes)

Lyrics from My Funny Valentine by Lorenz Hart.

I hope everyone had an enjoyable Valentine’s Day, romantic, or otherwise.

XOXO

Just You and Me, Cat

Aside

Bobcat’s napping on the bed and I can hear his soft snoring coming from the bedroom. I’ve got KXFM, Laguna’s radio station playing Americana music in the kitchen, but it still seems too quiet; too still. Not that I like loudness or lots of activity around me while I’m writing, but something about having two cats, one in the bedroom, one on my desk, both snoozing while I write brought just the right amount of background reverberations. And their complementing personalities, Lexington, protective and pensive, Bobcat, silly and boyish was the perfect energy mix to fill these four walls—and my heart with harmony, and lots of love.

Lex, my efficient assistant…

It’s been over thirty years since I’ve had only one cat in my household. Ever since that day in the late ‘80s, when I let an abandon sweet-faced kitty into my apartment who instantly connected with my one cat, Frankie, I learned that one is not enough, and have had two or three cats ever since (read bios of Frankie, Punkie, Lexington, Topper and Bella under “Meet the Family”).

Frankie and Punkie

I’m not the only one adapting to Lexington’s absence. Bobcat outwardly grieved for several weeks, not leaving the bed except to take care of basic needs, but even his appetite waned for several days.

Bobcat on Lexington’s cozy pad

Then a couple of weeks ago, I was making dinner and heard funny thumping noises in the living room, where I found Bobcat whacking Lexington’s green tennis ball across the floor. When he caught me spying on his newfound sports activity, he ran over to me and rubbed up against my legs over and over. I knelt down and gave him long, tight hug. The sound of his purring rivaled the rumble of a Harley Davidson. Bobcat had never even gone near Lexington’s tennis ball before, which made witnessing his first move towards healing extra special.

Bobcat has been in my life for about six years. During this time, I believe he understood my tight connection with Lexington and respectfully, didn’t interfere. But now, in our solitude together, Bobcat and I are bonding. We are building a routine. He now signals to me when he wants to play ball. I toss the tennis ball—he chases it and when that gets boring (after about one minute) then he attacks the toy mice that I’ve scattered around the floor. After I crawl into bed at night, he stands guard at the front door, watching for ominous critters (a giant raccoon recently sauntered up the walkway) and when he feels that all is well in the neighborhood, he hops onto the bed and curls up close to me. When Lexington slept next to me, Bobcat would usually sleep closer to the foot of the bed. I love seeing his personality blossom as his grief lifts, and as he adapts to his new roll in the household as the protector, and I cherish our deepening relationship.