Friday, October 28, 2011
Our life with Amidala
When our last cat, Marcello, disappeared in 2006 and we all were totally heartbroken, I said, "never again". I cannot bear more lost love now.
Four years later I said," if God wants us to have a cat, He'll have to send us one."
The next morning Amidala stood on our doorstep, hungry and with icicles hanging from her fur. She was so polite and thankful for some food and being let into the outer entrée. She kept purring and stroking up to us, and had us captured from that very first meeting. Gunnar opened the garage and found some rags she could hide under. The next day and the following day she'd wait outside our for food. We tried to find her previous owners through the local radio, paper and even hung posters of the cat on the local grocery stores.
Nobody wanted her. The cat stayed and we let her into our home and our hearts. Serina named her Amidala after the Queen from Star Wars.
She was fully house trained from the first day, and she adopted us as her chosen family moment.
I guess when God sends a cat, he does it properly.
Here's Amidala sitting on Serina's balcony. She keeps staring at us who are dining in the kitchen, no mewing, just this hypnotic look. "Let me in!"
After giving birth to five wonderful kittens in February and getting spaded in April, she has regained both weight and her thick fur.
If you wonder why my northern window is looking spotted, you now partly see the reason why. Our feline is using it as a ladder. The other reason being the salty rain pouring down horizontally at times.
The first time she did this trick my jaw fell down to my breast. This cannot be true. It was. The thickest queen in the neighbourhood is entering her home through a narrow window opening under the kitchen roof.
Will she manage to drag her fat behind with her? I'm using the camera as fast as I can, but Amidala is faster.
Finally inside with out touching one of the twenty boxes on the top of cupboards. "It's all mine", she thinks, from her majestic position.
Storming under the kitchen counter, for some comfort and praise for father Gunnar. It evidently was a greater challenge than we thought. "Home, free."
Triumphantly leaving her comfort cave heading versus me. She got some story to tell, and I'd better listen. "I want food and I want it now."
Amidala is neither a pet or a mean of escapism. She's a fully member of our family. Adding life to our lives.