My husband calls Loki the pound cat. He was rescued from the barrel where all dead catsí bodies go before they go back to the earth if they have the misfortune to end up at the pound. He was the only cat to actually reach out his paw to us on our way around the cages. Some folks donít like hospitals. I donít like the pound.
Loki had another name, on occasion, when no one is about, Iíll say it. About the fourth time I did this he looked at me and tells me that was his past. I stop and look at him. "Youíre talking to meÖin my head!!!"
"Of course I am, most of us do, but some just donít hear us. Share my story. Many out there have others, but are afraid to share or the ones that have, end up on the television, and anyone affiliated with them is not really believed. We too, are censored. All us four legg-ed, wing-ed ones, creepy crawlies etc. have voices. It just seems that the great majority of you two leg-ged have the loudest ones. Itís difficult to hear us when your own ears are deafened by your own loud noises."
Loki proceeded to tell me that he was a small kitten when the woman who had received him first became pregnant and was frightened of the disease she could transmit to herself and her baby by cleaning the litter box. He was promptly relegated to the outdoors. Being new to the outdoors he ended up living under the house. His cat clan was primarily the Felines of the Norwegian Forests. They are a little different than the others as they genuinely like other cats and little two legged ones. Especially babies. His best friend was a big black dog. He still likes big black dogs. He is still sad that Merlinís spirit left his body. Merlin was fun. He liked the chase. They could take naps together and Loki felt safer.
Now, when we transported Loki home, my husband also used to call him "no-nuts" and would commiserate over his plight. Due to the fact Loki lived under the house in his formative years and his first mentor was a big black dog, Loki didnít get the cat education most other cats get after weaning. We had a wooden gate with slats that Loki would try to jump between. We would hear his cat cry and go hunting for the location of the sound. Invariably Loki would be stuck between the slats. We would laugh. Itís actually still funny, heís a funny guy. He kept practicing until he could clear those slats.
Tree climbing was also interesting. Getting up was easy. Getting down not so easy. Climbing up to the roof easy. Getting down not so easy. One time he actually broke his leg jumping off of the roof. He never did that again. Heíd come to the window and vocalize his desire to enter. Sliding down the wall after near misses just werenít in the program anymore. He was getting older and discovered not all cats want to be friends and some big black dogs just want to eat you.
Loki, is my furry four leg-ged friend. More about Loki later.
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