This is one of my two cats, Cleopatra. She's a stray that won her way into our hearts when she showed up at our house nine years ago, in bad shape.
She has put two stupid two legged's in the hospital for a cat bite. That has given her a bad rep which she doesn't seem to care about.
She's really a very sweet cat just doesn't like anybody but John and I.
I see you out there shaking your head. There are blogging buddies that have actually been to my home and stay clear of Cleo.
One of her favorite places to take a nap is on the pile of fabric on my sewing table. She doesn't mind me running my machine right next to her. She does mind me taking fabric from the pile.
We weren't going to keep her when she came out of the bushes and rubbed against John's leg.
We weren't going to keep her when we took her to the vet and had her eye infection cleaned up, had her fixed and had other assorted problems taken care of.
We weren't going to keep her when I brought her home from the vet hospital and thought that was a good time to introduce her to our two dogs
and she bit my thumb and I passed out in the studio and my daughter's friend's mother, a nurse, had to rush me to the emergency room.
We weren't going to keep her when I had a two day stay in the hospital on an IV to take care of the infection.
Who knew you could die from a cat bite, I certainly didn't but I learned quickly and often when every nurse, student nurse, LPN, almost a doctor and doctor made it a point to stop in my room and tell me how lucky I was.
We weren't going to keep her because my husband was allergic to cats and for 31 years we hadn't had a cat.
Years later when she was entrenched in our lives we moved to the country.
Someone opened the door and let her out.
John was doing a great job of getting her to come back in when Hannah, our loud and bouncy German Shepherd, thought she would speed things up.
John went to his doctor, a sweet, sweet old man that probably should have retired years ago. He gave him the wrong antibiotic for the cat bite.
It was the red line moving up the inside of his arm that sent him to the hospital and on a IV drip.
Cleo has few interests in life at her old age. She likes to sleep in the sun on the upper deck. She likes to sleep on my fabric stash. She likes to sleep on top of the hot tub.
She detests Louie and his "hugs". She detests Murphy and his quest to get her to run side by side with him.
She expects to be brushed in the evening and a good cuddle while I am watching TV.
She was a stray. Louie came from a rescue. Murphy came from the country and an old couple that had puppies for sale.
All our but two of our dogs, over the years have come from the Humane Society. Duffy came from a country home where we met his parents, his siblings, his grandparents and assorted relatives. Hannah came from an old German couple that lived out in the country. It wasn't until Hannah died and we visited the couple again that they told us, in a whisper that they always thought Hannah and her siblings had a coyote for a father.
I am amazed and in absolute awe of the work that Bernie Berlin does with animal rescue. She thought when she moved to Tenn. that her work would take a different direction. It didn't and she has now set up a wonderful safe place on her property for the rescue of mostly puppy mill animals. She nurses them to a healthy state and then transports them, HERSELF, up to Chicago where they go to Humane Societies and good homes.
She runs a charitable organization so if you have a need to support someone who is actually DOING good work send her something.
http://www.aplacetobark.com/ Click on both links. One tells you how to donate and the second is a video from Bernie about the work she does.
She posted this video on my Facebook this morning. It's worth seeing.
It's worth putting this in your brain bank. If you love animals it's important to know about this. Who knows you might have a chance to talk about it or even post it on your blog. The more people that are aware the better, don't you think?
As Always, :)Bea