It was a long time since I’d had a kitten. I’d just lost my beloved tabby, Walter, at the age of 16. He had an inoperable tumour in his jaw. I was ill with grief and to this day I feel guilt, thinking maybe, somehow, I should have known, I could have done more.
The nine days I was without a cat were awful. My very bones ached with the lack of his warm, furry body and I missed him desperately. I wanted to punch people who said: “It was only a cat.” I haunted pet shops and scoured newspapers. Then one day, I saw THE advert.
I collected my son and hurried off to a nearby street to choose my kitten. We’re all wise with the benefit of hindsight; secretly I knew she was too little to leave her mother, but I was so desperate and bereft. Selfishly perhaps, we took her and left.
She was very angry when we got home. She mewed loudly and defiantly. She hated me. My heart broke again, and I wept for the loss of my kind and understanding cat. She wouldn’t eat. She wouldn’t drink. Late that night, as she cuddled unhappily against me in bed, I offered her a dab of water on my fingertip. “Please, baby, drink something…” She suckled hungrily at my finger and I realised. Emergency rush to the shop for kitten milk and syringes. Poor little baby was too young to leave her mother but the owner was disinterested and callous – I was heartbroken and lonely.
Mummy’s little princess!
My baby thrived. She sat on my knee every two hours while I fed her from a syringe and introduced her to the wonders of kitten meat. My partner cared for her just as devotedly when I had to go out.
She is now six years old and a diva princess. No psychological issues, despite the too-soon leaving of her mother, although she doesn’t relate to other cats too well, and remains convinced she is a small, furry, vastly superior human.
My acquisition of cats was a lot like buses… nothing for what felt like ages and then another three… My son wanted a kitten. I love my son. I love kittens. No-brainer really. A little black panther joined our household. Then one winter’s day, as we were returning home, we acquired another two kittens, my Siamese and her sister, who were cold, hopeless, hungry and abandoned…
My cats have repaid my love with interest. They are all Mummy’s girls, although the two younger ones also view my son as a mother figure… My cats are loyal and bring me tranquility… furry Kyanite…
This is black Kyanite… it reminds me of a witch’s broom…
Kyanite is a very interesting crystal when viewed closely and its properties can be highly beneficial. Thank you very much to my son’s crystal-wise lady https://lizianblog.com/ who was kind enough to let my son photograph these spectacular examples. A typical interpretation of Kyanite is that it aids attunement and meditation, helping the user to become more compassionate. I defy anyone not to look at a kitten and instantly become more loving and empathetic. A scientific study has shown that people who look at cat pictures are more productive in the workplace.. Both blue and black Kyanite are useful stones for meditation – I’ve mentioned before that my cats are wonderful meditation partners that both guide and focus you. Also, Kyanite does not hold negativity, so it will never need cleansing and is attracted only to the highest purpose. Finally, Kyanite balances and aligns the chakras, and stabilises the yin/yang energies.
I look at my Siamese and her sister, curled together on my bed and cannot help but think of the yin/yang symbol. Her cream fur and outgoing nature balances perfectly with her sister’s black fur and steadfast cat-ness. A feline harmony.