(tw: this is a story of love and relationship, but there is some sadness and words about Sage’s recent passing, so if that sort of thing hurts your heart too much, please don’t read further. There is lots of love and a giggle too, so if you’re ready, read on)
I am trying to find a new normal here, with one less studio-kitty, fur-baby, love-monster. It is quiet. So quiet. Her presence was BIG, even when she slept, she took up a lot of space. How did I not realise that before? I guess because she had been here from the day she was born, and so as she grew and her energy grew with her, they slowly intertwined in my heart a “normal”.
Would you like to know the story of Seraphina and her kittens? I hope so, because it seems I am going to tell it anyway. I think you have realised by now, that connection to other-than-human beings informs a lot of what I do. It informs a lot of who I am. I find inspiration and adoration in these little wild (and wild-hearted) beings - their authenticity and lack of pretention is so grounding, they inspire my compassion, they spark my curiosity and wonder. They are the reason I am inspired to create. So I hope you will indulge this silly tail (tale), and let me share a little bit more about myself in the process.
Once upon a time is my most favourite story beginning, so we will start with that.
(Also, I wrote this without realising I was referring to myself as ‘the woman’, but on review it seems sort of fitting, since I was writing while watching as an observer to my memories, so we will stick with it, be it pretentious or not).
Once upon a time, there was a woman (who had no idea she was going to find her way back to art in five years time) who had a cockatiel named Pepper who she adored.
Pepper had been with her just over a year, and was thoroughly embedded in her heart.
One late spring afternoon she sat in her chair by the window in the loungeroom and turned on the TV, an unusual occurrence at that time of day. Pepper, perched permanently pirate like (say that three times fast I dare you) on her shoulder became very interested in something out the window, scurrying up and down her arm, onto the chair arm, back up on her shoulder, little ear nibbles and soft tweets and over and over again. Finally, the woman realised it wasn’t just Pepper doing Pepper things, but that there must be something out the window. Looking out and down into the bird's nest fern, there was a radiant being in white, with two large eyes, one blue and one yellow, looking directly at her and meowing, pleading, silently. Nestled between her front and back legs were four tiny potatoes with umbilicals still attached, one pure white like her, one tabby, one a white tortoiseshell, and one tortie almost completely black.
Now, the woman was for a moment frozen, staring at those pleading eyes of different colours, not entirely sure if she was dreaming, or if she was delusional. You see, the woman had always had a feline companion. Her last love had passed just days shy of two years prior, and only the week before she had said to herself in the shower, in a moment of mourning for her Akasha, that she would not rescue another kitty, she didn’t need to go through all that again (for Akasha, who passed at age 16, had lived with recurrent medical issues from the age of 11, when her vet said she would be gone within months. Their combined tenacity and love decided otherwise). She did not need another kitty, she said again. And again. She had her Pepper, a feline friend was for the future. The woman didn’t realise she was actually challenging the universe, it seems. Perhaps the water was the conduit - shower magic can be powerful afterall.
The fluffy, glowing white angel again mouthed a silent plea, and the woman grabbed her phone and called her mum (because mum’s always have the answer). Her mum agreed to come over straight away, and left a message for her dad on the whiteboard near the phone telling him where she had gone (this is something we will come back to soon).
The woman watched the kitty and her newborns through the window, and then went to the side of the house where she was nestled to do the same, and croon softly to her. She had never had any experience with JUST BORN creatures, other than two human babes that she was honoured to be at the birth of, but her mum was raised on a sheep farm, and had played with plenty of farm kitties and their babes, to say nothing of new lambs. She would know what was best to do.
[Side note: Sometimes we keep things that seem silly to keep, but we also don’t seem to consider throwing away. Sometimes those things are needed in the future, and though we don’t know it at the time, something is preparing us. The woman had kept Akasha’s litter tray, a bag of litter, and despite being vegetarian, there were still two small portions of minced meat in the freezer, Akasha’s preferred food. What an oddity, and yet, entirely needed on this day.]
The woman’s mum arrived, slightly incredulous but not entirely surprised - stray animals and injured birds (and even a big-arse python) seemed to find her way to her daughter's house. There was a bunny living in a luxury set up in the back yard that came as a stray, and stayed to be fed fresh delights from the vegie garden daily, and have loved heaped on her). But this was a whole new adventure.
Box in hand, the woman and her mum went around the side of the house to assess and decide next steps. This beautiful white being was clearly at the end of her rope - she did not have the energy to emit sound with her meows, was so very thin, and though she wanted to protect her babes, when the woman’s mum asked her if she could help her, and quietly started removing the babes one by one, she did not protest. The woman put the babes in the box, and her mum carefully lifted this angelic being out of the little nest she had made for herself, cradled her near weightless body in her arms, and they all went into the laundry together.
Seraphina, my sweet fluffy angel, was so emaciated you could see her bones through her thick, matted fur. She was terrified and alone and a new mumma. The woman gave her some water in a bowl, and put out a little mince. On shaky legs, Seraphina (as she was named within hours, sweet angel) took some water and food, and we could hear it going into her poor empty belly. Settled in the towel lined box in the laundry, the woman and her mum went door to door in the neighbourhood asking if anyone might know where she belonged. A few weeks earlier people had moved from a rental a few doors up, and when no one else knew of her (though one person had thought they had seen her roaming around), so we thought she had perhaps been abandoned.
Of course, this was a Saturday afternoon, as is always the case with emergencies for cats and kids, and so she would have to wait until Monday to be taken to a vet. But the woman, oh, she was smitten. Completely taken in by this sweetest of wild-hearted beings that had found her way to the safety of her yard and heart.
Oh, yes, the whiteboard message!
The woman’s dad called her later that evening. On seeing it was her dad on the phone, the woman answered with “ Hey dad, I’ve put her in a box in the laundry and we will try and find who she belongs to on Monday.” There was a long moment of silence, and her dad said “...pardon?”. Silence from them both now. For her mum had simply written on the whiteboard “gone over to Natalie’s” and now her dad was wondering why Natalie had put her mother in box in the laundry with a view to finding where her mother belonged on Monday. This precipitated one of those shared moments of near hysterical laughter that is contagious and ongoing until all faces are wet with tears, and bellies aching from the core strength it takes to embody abundant mirth.
More than anything, I needed to tell this part of the story now, that hilarious misunderstanding that still makes me laugh out loud. As I was writing this memory, you see, Sage’s ashes were delivered. And in the middle of setting these words to virtual paper, there was a lot of sobbing at the surprise paw and snoot prints they included. That sweet snoot I won’t kiss again. And while having her home with me again now is the conclusion of her story, in my heart the hurt is still very raw.
There is a lot more to the story of Seraphina, and her four babies - two girls, Violet and Sage, and two boys, Marshmallow and Tabastian. But suffice to say here that her visit to the vet on Monday revealed no microchip, but an emaciated and abused poor soul. We later realised she also had a badly broken leg, and later again, internal damage, likely from being kicked. She was terrified for years of whistling, and boots, and loud male voices, and boxes or enclosed spaces - something cats usually adore. She had a hard time before she came to me, but she, and her babes, have known nothing but love and care for the rest of their lives.
Sage has left this physical plane, but oh, all her stories and nuances and habits and quirks were witnessed and loved and remain in my heart. I will tell you more of her stories, of her litter brothers and sister in the future, because even little stories of love and delight and wonder deserve to be shared. But I am honoured that I got to witness and adore her from the very beginning of her story - what a gift. And I know she knew she was safe and loved here, even if she heard a lot of “No Sage!” the last few months. Being caged was hard on her. She was very happy when I got in the cage with her though!
I am working through the embodiment of this grief and the bigger understandings it has brought with it. I am finding it difficult to create right now, so I am playing around with things in the garden (hands in the earth is a necessary healing, removing deadwood and trimming back bushes to allow the light in and new growth to come forth, and a couple of bear-hugs of my big tree).
I am trying not to be too hard on myself (which is a task in itself).
The postie just delivered some new paint brushes I am eager to try, so maybe today will be the day I pull out some paint. I suspect what comes now in my art will be a tiny but empowered evolution. With the cracking on a heart comes the pouring out of more creative emotion, raw and powerful.
Right now though, I am taking my cup of tea and my hurt heart to sit on the lounge next to Seraphina, under the window, bathed in early morning autumn sunshine, and let her contented purring heal us both a little more each day.
May you embody a little wild-kitty energy today, soak up the sun with reverence, roll around and stretch with delight on the floor, notice the tiny things, and purr contentedly.
Much love from me (and Sweet Sage)
So much love for this piece. I don't think any words can express it ❤ I will never not wonder how these four-legged creatures inspire so much unconditional love in us, how little else makes us smile and laugh as much as animals do, and the pain when they move on...
I'm sitting here with tears running down my face reading your story of Sage and family. I am a feline mom myself and I have suffered the losses of some of my fur babies though they did live a good long life. I also cry over those who have no heart or pity or compassion and abuse these precious feline...and canine gifts of love. Bless you many times over for rescuing Seraphina and her babies. So very sorry for your loss.