I see a white cat as I walk past the house where the chicken crossed the road and the rooster got shot and the little dog nearly killed the rabbit

Yes, many things involving animals seem to happen at this house. And today, I walked by and saw this cat chatting with these goats.

The goats are a little hard to see, but they are there, on the deck, peeking out from behind the fence.

The negligent cat blogger

I have been most negligent concerning this blog recently. It is not because I want to be or have lost interest, it is just simply that I have become spread altogether too thin. Furthermore, I have become exhausted. I am exhausted when I go to bed at night, I am exhausted when I get up, I am exhausted at every point during the day.

But still I do quite a few things. The other day, as I walked, I saw this black cat ahead.

Funny. More than eight years have now passed since I lost my original black cat, Little Guy. I searched relentlessly for Little Guy. I made posters and put them up everywhere.

I drove to the pound, 12 miles away, again and again and again in the hope that he would show up there, even though I knew he would not.

And when I saw this black cat, eight-and-a-half years later, my heart leaped to my throat.

And then the cat saw me and ran off into trees.

And here is my shadow, hanging over Varmit, who lives with Dan, the camera shy man.

Varmit.

And here is a calico that I spotted yesterday as I pedaled my bike about Wasilla.

And here is my own calico buddy, Chicago, with Royce, today. They are enjoying a wild, raucous, time, chasing grizzly bears through their dreams.

One of these days, I will get caught up, rested up and I will steam forward on this blog once again. Don't give up on me.

Cleo finds a new home in Alaska

Readers probably think that I have abandoned this blog; given up on it altogether. This is not correct. What is a hard fact, however, is that I just spent five weeks traveling on the Arctic Slope, where I visited five communities, and in that time I saw and met a total of but one cat, Sigñiq, who I photographed and introduced to you.

I am back home, now, exhausted, and with a new crisis to face as my lovely Sunflower has once again gone down with an excruciatingly painful knee injury, but at least I among my own cat buddies, who will soon begin to pop up in this blog again.

In the meantime, I did meet this character, Cleo, at the Anchorage airport shortly after my flight from Barrow landed and deboarded.

Cleo had just moved to Anchorage from Colorado.

I did a short interview with him:

Me: "Cleo, why did you choose to leave your home in Colorado to move to Alaska?"

Cleo: "Meow."

Me: "I see. I agree completely. Alaska is God's favorite place. And how was your flight?"

Cleo: "Meow."

Me: "That bad, huh?"

Cleo: "Meow! Meow! Meow!"

Me: "Well! Certainly I would agree that she should be reprimanded, but don't you think it would have been a little extreme to have opened the door and thrown the Stewardess out?"

Cleo: "Meow."

Me: "Actually, it's cats that always land on their feet, so she wouldn't have been okay. Besides, even if she did land on her feet, it was sixty below up there, so she would have been a popsicle and would have shattered when she hit the ground."

Cleo: "Meow."

Me: "Yes, I can accept that as punishment instead. It would be a real eye and nose-opener for her to have to fly from Denver to Anchorage in a little cage with a little tiny litter box that was always shifting around. But how do you feel about spending the rest of your life in Alaska?"

Cleo: "Purrrrrrrr...."

Siqñiq - with her around, the Arctic is always a sunny, warm, place

Look! Sun shines out through the window! From the inside to the outside. The cat that you see is Siqñiq, and Siqñiq is the Iñupiaq Eskimo word for sun.

The month of April is typically very cold in the Arctic coast village of Wainwright, Alaska. Two years ago in April, Cora Akpik made a visit to the nearest city, Barrow, 97 miles away. She learned that her grown daughter had a cat that she had been unable to care for, so she had taken it to the vet for safe keeping until it could find a new home.

Cora had never had a cat before, but she decided to make her home the cat's home.

As is the case in most of Alaska, no roads link the Arctic communities to each other and so Cora had to fly home, along with her grandchildren, Nellie and Clyde, who you see here.

The cat, who did not yet have a name, flew along in a cat carrier.

Somehow, the cat escaped from the carrier and jumped onto the back of a woman who sat in front of her. The woman did not know what kind of animal had landed on her back. All she knew is that it had fur and claws.

Cats are not common animals on the Arctic Slope. Wolverines are. For all she knew, a wolverine had just jumped on her. Polar bears are also common in the Arctic. Maybe it was a polar bear. A real tiny one - tiny, but mean. The woman screamed and screamed.

Then she discovered that it was a cat. Everything was alright after that.

After they arrived home, where Cora lives with her husband, Max, Nellie and Clyde and other children and grandchildren, she did not know what to name the gray cat.

She looked out the window. The sky was blue, cold and clear above the snow-blown tundra and the ice-covered ocean. The sun shone brightly.

"Siqñiq!" she said in Iñupiaq.

Thus, Siqñiq was named.

Everybody in the house loves Siqñiq. "She likes to play hide and seek," Nellie says. The baby, by the way, is Cara Ann. Siqñiq is also a guard cat. She sits in the window sill and studies everyone who approaches the house. When they enter the door, she scrutinizes them closely. If she detects that any of them pose a threat to Cara Ann, she attacks, leaps and rips them to shreds.

Fortunately, no one who has ever entered the house has posed any threat at all to Cara Ann. Everybody who enters loves Cara Ann. 

Siqñiq has never actually had to attack anyone.

But she scrutinizes everybody - including me.

Glad I passed!

It is expensive to feed Siqñiq. To save money over Barrow prices, the family buys her food and litter at Wal-Mart in Anchorage. From there, they fly it by jet 850 miles to Barrow and then by commuter airline to Wainwright.

Lemmings like to run around the Arctic Slope and all about the village of Wainwright. Siqñiq keeps them out of the house.

Siqñiq.

Nobody who I talked to could think of a single other cat living in Wainwright today. Siqniq may be the only one.

I did not meet any cat in Point Lay, the village that I visited just before Wainwright.

I expect to be back in the Arctic for most all of July. Anyone who wishes to follow my travels can click right here:

http://wasillaalaskaby300.squarespace.com/

We find the final cat that we would meet in India in a rather fruity situation

There is a certain fruit shop near Soundarya's home in Bangalore where she likes to buy and she had recently discovered that a kitten had moved in. So she took us there.

Have you noticed how many orange and white cats there are in India? They seem to be a majority.

Tryskuit snuggles the kitten.

The shop owner said that the kitten had moved in about two weeks before and that he liked him. He wanted him to stay, and grow up as a store kitten.

"What is his name?" I asked.

"Cat," he answered.

Cat takes a great leap.

If he were a vegetarian, Cat would be Fat Cat. 

Soundarya snuggles little Cat. As you can imagine, she had been feeling quite down about the calico. Yet, as hard as life is, live moves on and so she smiles again.

And she hugs her little friend. The next day, we, the humans, would all say goodbye at the Bangalore airport. There would be many hugs and tears, too. Tryskuit and I would fly home.

So that is it. For now.

Tomorrow, I head back to Alaska's Arctic Slope.

The world is forever changing before me. And always, I look to meet new cats.

The Momma Cat is left to cry for her calico baby

We arose before the sun the morning after the reunion and took off on a three day drive. It was marvelous trip, during which we experienced a small but significant part of the wonder that is India. 

On the second night, after we checked into a little hotel in the village of Badami, which sits in the midst of a region of ancient Hindu ruins, many of which are not ruined at all, I heard the cry of a kitten.

I stepped into a nicely kept lawn surrounded by the "u" shaped hotel on three sides and a swimming pool on the fourth. A man sat, eating, at a table.

"Did you hear a kitten?" I asked him.

"Oh yes," he said. "It will show up soon." And it did. But it was wild and frightened, and neither Tryskuit or I could draw near to it. I failed to get a picture.

At the end of the third day, we turned back toward Bangalore on a drive that would last all through the night.

As we rolled down the busy Indian Highway, lightning blasting around us, my mind frequently turned to the Momma and her babies. I wondered how they were doing. I worried, but then I worry about many things. I consoled myself that they would be fine.

When we arrived back at the house at about 5:00 AM, I listened, but could hear no cats. Trusting that this meant that they were asleep, I went to sleep myself for a few hours - as did everybody else.

About 9:00 AM, I was woken by the forlorn and lonely "meow" of Momma cat. I listened, but did not hear the answer of a kitten in return. 

Tryskuit and I then searched and searched, but we could find no sign of the kittens. We asked those who had stayed behind, and they said they had seen both kittens the day before, but not today.

Then, as I downloaded the trip pictures from my camera into the laptop, the woman next door, the one who had been feeding Momma cat, opened her door. There, standing beside her, next to her very own bowl of milk, was the orange kitten.

The woman had not seen the calico, but had heard a bit of commotion, found the orange kitten on the ground and had brought it into her house for its safety. I understood that she would now adopt it, even as she continued to feed the mother.

We continued to search. We put out our inquiry as to the whereabouts of the calico as far as we could - then we learned the horrid news. It had been eaten by a street dog.

Look at the Momma! How she did cry. No tears - but she cried. Her pain was bitter. I petted her and petted her, as did Tryskuit in turn. She seemed to take some solace in those pets, but they did not wipe away her pain.

I felt as though I had been kicked in the chest. Tears came to my own eyes. I did not let them linger, for to do so would do no one any good.

And as she cried, a male black came wandering by, a tom, then quickly disappeared.

Little One: I saw your great desire to live - I saw it in your eager posture, the glow in your eye, the plea in your meow. I saw you frightened, and alone, when your mother and your orange sibling got stuck in the little building and, with Tryskuit at my side and Buddy amused but eager to help, we did not stop our efforts for you until you were reunited with your family.

Then I saw your relief, your joy, and how quickly you put the fright behind you as you romped with your sibling, and suckled your mother.

I did all that I could for you, Little Kitten, but it was not enough.

How I wanted to pull you in and give you shelter of the safest kind, but I was not in a position to do so. How I wanted to pick you up, hold you, stroke you, comfort you, but I did not want to frighten you so I never did.

Some who will visit this page will say that you are at the Rainbow Bridge. For those who find comfort in the thought of such a bridge, where the spirits of deceased pets play and romp until that day when they can be reunited with their humans, fine, that is all very good and I encourage you to take your comfort there, for comfort should be taken where it can be found.

Thoughts of such a bridge do not comfort me, for those thoughts slam into hard reality.

Those who I was with at the time of your death believe that you will come back again, in another body, another form, perhaps human, again and again until at last you are perfected into ultimate happiness and glory.

To me, you were perfect already.

As stated in my previous post, I have but one source of solace. That is the happiness that I saw when you and your family were all reunited, when you suckled at your mother's teat. For that moment, which I helped to create for you, as did Tryskuit and Buddy, all was well. For that moment, the world was a warm and beautiful place.

In this matter, that knowledge is my sole solace.

A mishap separates the family; Tryskuit and I launch a rescue effort to reunite them

Later, that very same day, I was working on my laptop when Tryskuit burst into the room where I had set up shop. "Dad!" she exclaimed. "There is a big drama happening with the cats!"

Apparently, the small orange one had worked its way off the roof and had then fallen through a high window in a tiny little building connected at the back to the home of our hosts. Momma Cat had then leaped through that window, knocking out a pane of glass as she did.

Now, she and the orange kitten were stuck inside. The little calico was stranded, all alone, on the eave where they had made their new home - as you can see above. I followed Tryskuit out to the second floor overlook. We could hear the Momma and the calico meowing to each other.

It was a sad and forlorn sound.

We could hear nothing at all from the little orange kitten.

The calico retreated to a position beneath the tin roof. Her tail and one leg protruded beyond.

The calico peeks back out at me. At first, I thought it would be an easy matter to reunite the little family. As the little room where the Momma and the orange had gotten themselve stuck in was connected to the home of our hosts, Murthy and Vasanthi, I figured that it was theirs' and that they would have a key to it.

It was not theirs' and they did not have the key. It belonged to a woman who lived on the second floor of the house directly behind hers and she had the key. They figured that in time, she would appear, hear the meows and let the kittens out.

I had no idea how long such a thing might take or what might happen in the meantime. As I pondered this situation, a raven landed on the wall over the calico kitten, took a good look at it and then flew away.

If that raven - or others - were to become convinced that this calico was alone and helpless...

And then we learned that the lady had rented the little room out to a man who slept there, but who was gone for four or five more days to come.

We could not wait. Something had to be done now. I felt rather odd about it, but I climbed over the wall you see here, then crossed the flat roof on the other side to the door of the second story residence.

I could hear voices inside, speaking in their native tongue. I knocked on the door. The voices went silent. No one answered. I waited. Then knocked again. More silence.

So Tryskuit and I went and got Buddy, Vasanthi and Murthy's nephew, on vacation from school. Buddy was a little amused that we were so worried, but he was also willing to help. He went and knocked on the same door that I had and then waited for about half a minute. Someone came to the door.

It was the lady and two children. They came over to peek down at the calico, but it had hidden beneath the corrugated roofing.

Buddy then acted very quickly - quicker than I wanted, because I wanted to photograph the process. He got the key from the lady and headed down, so quickly that, by the time I could secure my camera, cross over myself, find the stairs and prepare to go down, he had already opened the door. The Momma cat had stepped into the entrance.

The Momma cat steps outside the door.

She does not want to leave her orange kitten behind, however, so she steps back in and hunkers down.

The orange kitten rests on a gunny sack inside the home. As I take this picture, Buddy scoops up the Momma cat and heads back up the stairs. I then reach down, take hold of the frightened little orange, lift it to my chest and follow.

Fortunately, Tryskuit was in position on the deck at the Murthy, with her own camera. She documented the action as Buddy came carrying the mother kitten back for a reunion with the calico...

And then Tryskuit photographed me, as I came carrying the little orange kitten. Tryskuit and I were a true team this day.

After returning the mother to the eave, Buddy took the orange from me and prepared to reunite the whole family.

Buddy climbs down with the orange as the Momma cat watches.

As Buddy puts the orange cat down, the Momma retreats beneath the tin roof and the calico steps out.

The orange kitten takes off to join its mother and sister.

Soon, they all reappear. We can feel the joy and relief the family feels at being reunited once again.

Momma cat opens up to her kittens, so that they might have nourishment.

The neighbor lady, who did her part to help, admires the little family.

Tryskuit and I could see and feel the relief and joy the mother felt to be reunited with her baby calico, and to have her orange freed from the little building, to be together with both of them. 

Yet, I also thought about all the dangers of this world, and what a harsh place it can be - totally indifferent to the happiness, health, safety and well-being of a tiny cat family. To the natural world such an individual family and all the members of it are of no consequence - should they go to feed a raven or a street dog, that is just fine with the natural world.

So I thought of these things and I felt most uneasy. In a very short time, Tyskuit, Vasanthi and Murthy and Buddy would leave on another tour and we would be gone for three days. There would be other people at the house and they all knew about the cats; furthermore, the lady next door to the side had taken a strong interest and was feeding the mother. We could only hope for the best in a dangerous world.

And I felt something else as I watched the mother suckle her babies, as I saw the look of contentment, relief and happiness radiate from her countenace - solace. I felt a sense of solace that, whatever the future might hold for them, at this moment, they were together. They were safe. They were content. The kittens bellies were being filled.

They were experiencing this only because Tryskuit and I had taken action, and then the others had joined to help us. So, whatever sorrows the future might hold, this would be my solace - that we had given them this moment, this beautiful, beautiful, moment.

This story will continue.

The happy day for this little feline family - Tryskuit and I get to witness it

As you can see, the three were very happy. They played and played. They had a very good time.

Kittens need to eat - and that means that a mom must eat. So she goes off in search of a meal.

And she finds it - right next door where a kindly lady has been putting out food for her. She dines, and soon her food will be kitten food.

She returns to the kittens.

They continue to play.

How they play!

I can't tell you why, but I find myself feeling very fond of these two - and their mother.

She nestles in the corner. They come to her. Maybe they will dine now.

Nope - they play on.

Next: big drama unfolds for the little cat family.