An Altruistic New Year…or…The saving of Puss

Writing by admin on Saturday, 17 of January , 2009 at 9:32 pm

It’s a beautifully tolerable, actually warmish, New Years Eve in St. John’s. The cusp of 2009. A  wonderfully talented artist friend of mine has asked me to go with her to a party at the Wonderbolt Circus Studio down on the harbour front. We first stop at mutual friends for a visit. The view from their window is spectacular. The harbour, the tops of houses below, the south side hills..stunning. Lucky dogs.

We head down over the stairs between the streets leading downtown, marveling over the beauty of the night.

Two blocks from our destination we hear a mewling. There at the corner is a sweet little cat, wide eyed, scared and crying out in that lost, break your heart voice.  Poor little thing is no older than 7 months. Friendly creature.

My friend mentions she is looking for a cat as a companion for her older one. I speak to the cat in a calm voice and cat responds gratefully. My friend decides then that perhaps now Isn’t the time and we need to get going. Fortunately a street man starts cooing to the cat so I feel at least a little warmed although still distressed.

The party is great. Fabulous vegan food. People swinging hula hoops, tumbling on mats, getting drunk, dancing to a great playlist of 70’s music. I feel like I am 12 and someone has dropped me into a weird and wonderful funhouse.

Ten minutes before 2009 we all go out to the parking lot. We are supplied with our sparklers, a bottle of bubbly for all 30 of us and a backyard-do-it-yourself fireworks.

What fun. Cheers from the crowd. Honking of Ships horns..woohoos and delight until at some point a firework falls on it’s side and streams like a blaze of white across the parking lot towards the building. “And Moses parted the sea”…..well…what a riot..people jump out of the way, duck behind cars, laugh nervously…what a moment. Like a movie.

It’s night’s end and my friend and I head home. We pass the A1C gallery and stand talking to friends at which point my friend turns to me and says “some girl just walked into the gallery with that cat we saw.”  I proclaim it isn’t a place for a frightened animal and she proceeds to go in and claim the cat, after a few fight’n words of course.

So off we go. She has the cat and some bags so I take the cat and we head west towards her house. At this point I realise that I am holding this poor little animal and have to get it to her house and it is a different direction from my house and wouldn’t you know every blasted bar patron is on the street trying to hail a cab. Thankfully I have my knee high made for Winter Doc martens on. Puss is so sweet and passive and gentle and trusting, it breaks my heart. We get to the infamous George Street, foolishly hoping for a cab. HA. I knew then it was a long trek ahead. You see, to get to her house one has to climb a hill that in my mind one should only be repelling at best. Barter’s Hill. That’s like saying “Mt. Everest” or say “Death Valley” to one who has chronic back and neck pain and has smoked since the age of 12 and perhaps imbibed a little too much for 30 years. All I can say is “thank whoever if anyone is out there, And I am not sure about that anyway for willfullness, single mindedness and booze.”

I am determined to get that darn cat to it’s new home. My lungs are ready to explode, the cat is starting to get squirmy and the road is slippery with snow. I feel like the little train that could. I keep the mantra “just to the top now, just to the top” in my head. Finally we make it. All I can think is, “I can go home now, go to bed and have that stroke that is hanging over me like a cloud and no one will know, but the cat will be safe. This is it laurie, the end.”

We seclude the cat in her front room while I splay myself on the couch grasping for air ….for 20 minutes. Kitty starts wandering around, purring, wanting attention, laying on the floor curling up and licking itself in contentment and that makes it all worth while. The moment is sweet. Both of us marveling. It’s like birthing a child and forgetting what you went through when baby is in your arms. Maybe it was the booze. It is a Thomas Kincaid moment to be sure.

So I leave to walk the last 15 minutes home…still praying to not have that stroke and feeling very pleased with myself and my friend for doing a very altruistic thing on new years Eve. The smile lasts.

Update: Starlight is happy and contented and loving his/her new diggs on Lemarchant Ave. My friend is in love with kitty. Of course if any notices appear on street poles, looking for lost cat, then circumstances will change but until then, two creatures are very thrilled.

If you are interested in helping our local no kill association whose purpose is to save and find homes for unfortunate animals, please go here.

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Category: Uncategorized, cat stories

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