Since that time many people have suggested to get a new pet.
The memory of Robert was too fresh.
Also, I was wondering what my physical health would 'do' without the challenges of hairs, dusts, allergies.
Weeks ago, a little tortoiseshell cat was seen around the 'Mall' (green area near the cathedral in Lismore). It was being looked after by the Dean and his family. Mariela, who is known to help sort stray cats in town, was contacted to help find a home for this cat. Of course I was asked too.
The answer was a firm NO.
I did make a poster, put it on Facebook, she was listed on internet sites, looking for a new home.
The cat moved to the local pub, and was fed there by staff. Mariela, a great believer of having all cats neutered, brought her to the vet. On the day of her surgery, I offered to look after her for the night, or until she had recovered, or found a new home. I frantically put up a new request on facebook to find her a home.
As it turned out, she had been neutered already. This only became clear after she was opened up.
The cat came home to me to recuperate. I had made her a bed- with added hot water bottle- and a litter-tray in the bathroom. She was a bit dopey from the anaesthetic but she was very happy. She 'welcomed' me with a little meows, and purred, and rubbed against my legs every time I came into the bathroom.
We 'meditated' together...
We got up.
She walked around my little house. Inspected the study and the living room/kitchen.
She had a look on her face of "this will do nicely".
Found a spot on the couch. Purred. Settled in.
Not put out by any sounds. Not put out by home help and 6 year old daughter coming in...
She found her new home.
No discussion required.
Case closed, as far as she was concerned.
In the meantime friends on facebook were telling me:
- Maybe Robert sent her to look in on you
- She's meant for you. A loving companion who won't need exercising!
- Why don't you adopt her Corina. She's meant for you to replace Robert
- She's a gift from Universe and the Angels, please do accept it and now find a name for her.
- My response: "Sally"
- Looks like she adopted you I am a 'failed foster' and never regretted giving my Momo a loving home. My two boys Ollie and Jamie have gladly accepted her as a little sister. Sally looks like a very sweet little girl.
So, now there is Sally.
To not fall over the cardboard box I had set up for her, I made her a bed in the bottom of my "coffee-table-extra-seat-trolley". Her very own "camper-van" or "Caravan"
|Sally in her caravan|
She walks around as if she lived her all her life. And that I am allowed to live here too.
Knows the sound of 'sachets', and the shaking of a carton of milk.
She knows her comfort- and dislikes cold floors.
She does not even get scared when I move the wheelchair through the house.
She is supporting me - or trying out the office chair- while I write on the computer...
|Sally as (not so attentive) supervisor in my study|
After a few nights I let her have free reign of the house. She slept in her 'caravan', but at half past 2 (am) she came crying- talking frantically into my bedroom. As if she had had a nightmare. She jumped on the bed and placed herself ON my head. giving me little bites on my scalp, licking my hair and purring like there was no tomorrow. After a while I put her back in her bed. All was fine.
Unfortunately, the half past 2 talk is a nightly feature...
The question remains, where on earth did she come from? Who owned her? Did her "mammy" die? Was she put out on the Mall, knowing somebody will look after her?
Any Lismoreans have any ideas?
I think we might get along, but some rules are still to be ironed out.
We are working on it!
Further reading and links