The Love Of A Cat

In honor of Emerson and Erika Burkhalter his cat-mom

“What greater gift than the love of a cat.” ― Charles Dickens

A few days ago I read Erika’s remembrance of her beloved cat, Emerson.

When I first started reading I thought how sad her cat died, but as I kept reading I realized the horror of his untimely, and unnecessary death, caused by the negligence of a trusted friend.

I dissolved in tears and was filled with grief for a cat I did not know and his owner. If you read her story you may have done the same. Sad at any time but how he died was horrific and magnified my reaction.

If you have ever had a cat, or any animal, that you loved deeply, you will understand. Tears welled in my eyes and flowed down my face. I have thought of Emerson and Erika every day since first reading her tribute and tears always fill my eyes. My heart breaks for you Erika.

I love all animals and have had special relationships with both dogs and cats, but through the years it has always been a cat who took my heart.

“A cat has absolute emotional honesty: human beings, for one reason or another, may hide their feelings, but a cat does not.” ― Ernest Hemingway

Over the years I have been lucky to have loved and been loved by four cats. Two are no longer with me and two live with me now.

I have given homes to many cats over the years but these four are special.

“I love cats because I enjoy my home; and little by little, they become its visible soul.” ― Jean Cocteau

The first was Sam, a male tiger mix. He died earlier than he should have. He became sick and was diagnosed with diabetes. I gave him insulin shots twice each day until finally the disease overtook him and I helped him move on and away from the pain.

Second, came Wallace, a big gray and white mixed breed cat. When we moved to New York from California we bought a small farm with a big red barn.

My husband came into the house from the barn one day and told me there was a cat in the barn and he thought it was sick. I asked why he thought that and he answered that the cat was hiding between the bales of hay. Well, I was sure the cat was not sick. I hurried down to the barn and saw the cat who would become known as “Big Mama” burrowed down in the hay bales with her four brand-new kittens.

I loved them all but there was a special bond between myself and Wallace. How I loved that cat. He would follow me to the garden, sit with me in the yard, cuddle, and rub against me as he looked into my eyes. I would wheel him around in my wheelbarrow and he would either sit up and look around or curl up and take a nap.

Wallace also left me too early. We did not have enough time together and to this day I miss him. He became sick with feline leukemia. That is a nasty disease and he slowly became weak and could barely walk around the yard. There were lots of wheelbarrow rides at the end of his life and lots of walks with me just holding him in my arms. One day he started to walk across the yard and I stood and watched him waiting to see if he needed help. As I watched I realized what he was attempting to do. He was walking around the boundary of the front yard and stopping and spraying, marking his territory for the last time. He couldn’t finish that walk so I went and picked him up and carried him. For the next two days I carried him with me and we sat in the grass or in the gazebo. I watched him and kept him safe until I knew it was time for him to go before he suffered any more. I made the appointment and took him to the vet and held him in my arms as he was given a shot and drifted away.

My next cat, Isabella, is my number one cat who absolutely owns me. She is the female version of Wallace with the same coloring and markings, slightly longer fluffier hair, and a more petite feminine size. She is gorgeous and as I often tell her, she is adorably adorable.

Isabella simply appeared. The first time I saw her she was sitting in the driveway of the neighbor across the street and I was startled by the resemblance to Wallace. Then the next morning I was walking Benson our dog. As I rounded the corner of the barn I gasped and froze in place. There she was sitting in exactly the same place that Wallace often sat on a stone wall near our gazebo. She looked just like him!

My mind and heart raced. I knew it could not be him but that is where my heart went…I so wanted it to be him.

Do you believe in reincarnation? I do. It felt like Wallace knew I was devastated by his loss and came back as Isabella so I could cope without him. I believe that to this day.

Isabella is a quirky cat with routines that change with the seasons. She is highly intelligent and affectionate. The longer we are together the more she talks and we have quite the conversations.

She is an inside-outside cat and I so wish I could keep her inside all the time. She refuses to use kitty litter and when she has to go to the bathroom she goes to the door and asks to go outside. If you ignore her she starts demanding and raises her voice which increases in volume until you open the door.

I am not sure exactly how old she is or how long she existed by herself outside. Each time she goes outside I pray she will return. She means the world to me and my heart belongs to her.

My last “special” cat is Zoe. She is another stray who just showed up. She is a black and white tuxedo cat and has extra toes. It took a bit of time to make her understand she was safe and I was able to bring her inside the house.

She was injured when she found us and the vet does not know what caused the injury to her eye. He said she was hit hard by something. We tried to save the eye but were not able to. Now she is a beautiful one-eyed cat.

Zoe is extremely affectionate and reminds me of a toddler who hangs onto her mother’s leg because that is what she does. She meows for me, she clings to my leg and loves to be held like a baby.

My worry now is who will outlive who. Will I live longer than Isabella? How could I possibly outlive Zoe? If I die who will take care of them?

Why did I tell you about my cats? I am not sure. Probably because knowing what happened to Emerson intensified my love and need for my own cats. It made me think of them and how I would feel in the same situation.

I have felt that loss before but never at the neglect of another person. What a terrible, terrible loss and so unnecessary. It should not have happened.

“If man could be crossed with the cat it would improve the man, but it would deteriorate the cat.” ― Mark Twain

Clearly, the cat sitter did not understand the depth of love and caring Erika has for Emerson. There are people who never quite get the connection between people and their pets. They sometimes are also the people who do not understand compassion in any form. I believe that to be true in this case.

As Erika started to gather information about what happened and talked to a therapist it became apparent the sitter did not care. She did not care about Emerson or the other cats and she did not care about Erika.

Yesterday I was exercising on the treadmill and realized suddenly that I had gone from a fast walk to a fast jog. I never do that and as I started to slow down I realized that I had been thinking about Emerson and what had happened to him and I was angry. My anger caused me to mindlessly speed up in response.

That is when I decided to write this tribute. A tribute to a cat I never met but know I would love and to his cat-mom.

Erika, I am so sorry for what you are going through and I hope your pain eases soon. The anger will subside after a time and your love for Emerson will be with you for the rest of your life. Uma, Freyja, and Bisou will help fill the void and you will see Emerson in them.

I wish you all well.