My Healing Kitty

I call my cat Charlie my "healing kitty." He is so incredibly wonderful. Always sweet, he never thinks of scratching, biting, or being bad in any way. He is beautiful through and through. He is the first kitty I have ever had that I got to pick myself and actually call my own. He has helped me work through past hurts, just by being so loving.

When I was growing up, I always wanted a cat. When I was 6, I had a kitten, Bootsie, who got squished by my dad's car after 3 days. Two years later, we adopted the neighbor's cat, Minky, when they moved. She was old at the time and was never very cuddly or interactive. When I was a teenager, we had neighbors who had a gorgeous Maine Coon cat that they neglected. They let her outside and she had litter after litter of kittens. Being the cat lover that I am, I would try to play with them. One adopted me when I was about 16. Her name was Muffy. She was incredibly beautiful. She had the Maine Coon fur-white with calico markings, and the Maine Coon temperament, alot like Charlie's. She was gentle and sweet, and mostly she just loved me. My parents allowed her to visit only, but I would sneak her in to my bedroom after school and on cold nights. Otherwise, she would be left to huddle against our house. The first time I found her there, nearly frozen, I vowed I would keep her close to me, no matter what the folks said. She visited me every day until she became more or less mine. I asked the neighbor permission to keep her, and it was granted. My parents seemed ok with it. Oh, how I loved her! She was incredibly loving and beautiful. We gave each other comfort. I gave her warmth and love,and she gave me the same at a time when living at home was really hard. I had her for about 9months, and then one day I came home from school and she wasn't there. My mother had decided to give her to the Avon lady on a whim~without telling me, and she refused to get her back. I remember crying, pounding on my father's chest to please get her back. Nope. I remember grieving for her, wondering why my mother had been so cruel to take her away from me for no reason. When I called the lady who took her to inquire about how she was, she was vague and indifferent. I cried for weeks. Two weeks went by and I finally found out Muffy's fate. Soon after she was given away, she was hit by a car and died. I will never forget the pain I felt, and to be honest, if I think about it long enough, I still feel it.

Charlie is so much like Muffy in stature, feel, and temperament. He is mine, all mine, and no one will ever take him from me except for God. That will be an incredibly sad day, one I don't want to think about. He has been such an incredible gift, my little rescue guy. How lucky I am to have found him. He is such a blessing.