|
Nyota |
|
Years ago, I found an incredible farm with rolling hills, green pastures, and well maintained barns for a new home for my horse. In all that space were also dozens of feral and semi-feral cats and the resultant dozens of kittens running around. I decided to help and began the trap, neuter and release regime – releasing the adults after their procedures and finding homes for the kittens that were adoptable. Needless to say, this kept me pretty busy for a long time.
I got fairly good at the trapping part --- learned that fried chicken or tuna fillets were hard bait to resist. Most of the cats were caught quickly and I felt we were making good progress except for one very clever mother cat who seemed determined to never be caught. She wasn’t really afraid of people – in fact, she decided that I was just the right person to take care of her kittens and would proudly bring them to me when they were about 5 or 6 weeks old. She seemed to know all the ways to make them highly adoptable – they were well mannered and adapted to being house cats within days. The funny thing was they were always male kittens that she would surrender to me. Don’t know if she ever had female kittens, but I suspect that she kept them close to her based on what I know of her now. One January afternoon I was determined that I had to catch her. It was cold, wet and miserable and she was looking a little too thin the last time I saw her. So traps and carriers in hand, I set out to outwit this very clever little cat. As I set up the first traps with all the tasty morsels that I could find, she came to the edge of the woods and watched me. In my haste to get the traps ready, I had left a large carrier near my car with the door open. When I started back to put food in the carrier, this little black cat was laying in it on the warm blanket. I was so worried that I would spook her back into the woods that I was afraid to move. She just regarded me with those wise old eyes as if to say “Its all right, I’m ready to go home and get warm.” I cautiously reached to close the door and she just stretched out and started purring. I think she was worried that I might not be as smart as she had originally thought so she wanted to make sure I understood her message!! After getting her home, I put the carrier in a small bathroom with food and water and left her alone for the evening. When I checked on her the next morning, I was saw a very contented little old lady who seemed once again determined to make sure I understood that she decided that it was time to come in from the cold. I didn’t try to pet her since I thought she was feral, but just made sure she was comfortable and went to make the necessary arrangements for her vet check and spaying. The spay was hard on her physically – the vet said she was probably 5 or 6 years old but depleted from the hard life she had led. I decided that she would spend the rest of the winter with me to build up her strength and then return her when the weather was easier in the spring. After the first week, the right name for her finally came to me. Nyota or “beautiful star” fit since she had a large white patch on her chest. Against the solid black fur on the rest of her body, that patch stood out like a perfect star in the night sky. Nyota quickly adjusted to her new routine and wanted more and more attention from me. The bathroom was soon opened and Nyota met the other cats in the house. This began a 6 month period of her educating the house on who was the matriarch and what the new house rules were going to be. Nyota became the top cat that every house needs --- she had the iron fist in the velvet paw and dispensed love and discipline whenever and to whomever it was needed. At a little over 7 pounds, this wonderful little lady kept the peace with 20-pound males and kittens alike being mother, friend, and teacher to all. The other female cats in the house became her deputies and were totally devoted to our little ruler. The males were cherished and loved, but never given a role in running the house. Over the next 7 years, she helped us foster over 50 cats and kittens and taught them the skills necessary to enjoy life and win the love of their new people. Whether it was an orphaned kitten or an abused cat, Nyota always knew the right ways to make their life happier and poured her love out to one and all. She even had enough love leftover for me and helped me through the death of my beloved horse and the numerous cats that we lost over the years. Nyota’s hard early years always haunted her health and over the years she grew more and more frail. Her two principal deputies took over most of the duties in running the house. One of her own great grand daughters was the velvet paw – another tiny black cat who always thought peace was the answer. An emotionally scared stray that Nyota befriended was the iron fist and tolerated no misbehavior from anyone in the house. Cancer finally took her from us last year. As the vet and I were both trying not to cry, I looked again into those calm eyes and felt the love and wisdom of that wonderful old soul. Nyota met death in the same way she always faced life – in control and on her own terms. Nyota lived life with enthusiasm and love and I know she’s probably the matriarch at the Rainbow Bridge right now. This time, she’ll be the one waiting for me with the open door and warm home. |