When storms are threatened, it is good to have a safe haven or harbor.
Bitzie enjoys roaming and exploring her territory. But, not all creatures are safe to be around. At those times, Bitzie retreats to her secret garden to relax and chill out. She can spy on the world below unnoticed and discern when it is safe once again to venture out.
Do you have a safe haven ~ a place to go when your life is dangerous?
Bitzie at Work
Bitzie thinks of my parakeets (the Byrds) as her pets. I feed them every day and clean their cage (which takes longer than cleaning my apartment!), but they are afraid of me. Bitzie, however, can get within inches of them without raising a feather of an alarm that a predator is in their midst. Go figure!
Sadly, this afternoon when I took a break from working on my web site, I discovered Sir Winston Churchill dead on the bottom of their cage.
He loved The Tonight Show with Jay Leno and tweeted out with gusto the show’s theme song. Sir Winston and his fellow Byrds were music critics. They tweet along to music they love and squawk fiercely when they don’t like it. . .six wings up and six wings down!
Some days just suck rotten eggs. Maybe somebody rains on our parade. Maybe it just rains. . .and rains. . .and rains. We do live in Seattle!
It doesn’t do any good to stuff our anger. That just leads to an explosion later on. We need to be clear about our distress. We need to give ourselves permission to be crabby when we’re tired.
Hopefully, we’ll get a really good hug and maybe a nap. Life always looks better after a good nap.
In Memory of Thomas
This has been a very sad week. Thomas was the beloved cat of my friend Karlyn Bennett, who is studying photography at the Art Institute of Seattle. Her photo of Thomas captures his personality brilliantly. Thomas was the sweetest, most gentle, smartest, sensitive, charming, and loving cat. He captured Bitzie’s heart from the second they met. Bitzie would do absolutely anything to spend time with Thomas including jumping off the balcony.
Thomas was a keeper. Bitzie knew it from the start. When I adopted her, I thought she would be the perfect mate for my much beloved cat Willie. But, Willie ~ as much as I loved him ~ was a player. He was bold as brass. He was a bad boy who didn’t treat Bitzie with much respect. Yet, Bitzie was very protective of him. She cared for him as he entered the last years of his life. She had such dignity. It didn’t take Willie long to learn from Thomas that he would loose Bitzie’s heart if he didn’t treat her right.
Bitzie wasn’t sad when Willie passed away, but she’s been in mourning for Thomas.
When I visited the local Hallmark store today to buy a condolence card for Karlyn and for my Aunt Millie who lost her husband, my favorite Uncle Ray, I was a little shocked to realize that there were as many cards for people who had lost their cats as there were for women who lost their husbands. Interesting.
The other sad news of the week is that my godmother also lost her beloved cat, and one of my best friends lost a job she loved. No cards for lost jobs at Hallmark.
The happy news is that Karlyn has adopted a one-year-old shelter cat.
Speak Out: “I’m a Princess Puss!”
Valentine’s Day, 2002
Two short weeks before this adorable photo was taken Bitzie’s life was quite different. . .
Bitzie was six weeks old. Seattle was in the midst of a rare blizzard.
The evil master at her house was picking off her litter mates one-by-one with a handgun.
Bitzie fled into the woods. She was freezing. She was very alone and terrified. She wandered the dense woods until she found apartment buildings with warm, cozy cats sitting in the windows. A safe haven? Maybe.
She yowled. I knew instantly a kitten was in distress and raced out to rescue her, but I couldn’t find her.
She found shelter and survived the night.
The next morning she let it rip again. I ran out and saw a beautiful, tiny, traumatized kitten up to her belly in the snow. My cat-loving neighbors flew out of their apartments too. One rented a trap. Another put it on her first floor patio. I agreed to adopt Bitzie.
A few hours later she was safe and warm inside my home purring her little heart out. She was so tiny that we decided to call her our itsy-bitsy baby girl: Bitzie.
Bitzie never read a self-help book. She rarely watches Oprah. But, Bitzie knew she didn’t deserve to be abused. She also knew her survival chances were better in a blizzard than they were at home. She trusted the universe would embrace her with unconditional love.
Bitzie learned that dark and stormy night to speak out. She values herself and expects to get her needs met. Yes, she still lets it rip! When Bitzie yowls, I say, “yes, ma’m!”
Isn’t She Lovely?
Valentine’s Day, 2009