Welcome to The Club Spring 2023

Welcome to ... THE Club
A new magazine for people who aren’t (new that is!)
Lessons From Lucy
or What I Learned
From My Cat
By Peter Smith, Brights Grove
It seems the world is divided into two
irreconcilable camps, those who enjoy
the company of cats and those who
do not. Being a confirmed member of
the former camp, I have always lived in
their presence and the house had never
been without a cat except for the brief
periods between the passing of one
and the arrival of another. However, as
the years had progressed, the number
of cats in our lives had increased to
the point where family expectations
required a minimum of three. And so
following the tragic loss of one, I had
Helping Hand WORD SEARCH
declared it my right to select our next
companion from the Humane Society.
On the 10 minute drive to make
my selection, I pondered the question
of how to decide from so many needy
candidates and from somewhere deep
inside came the words “take the one
that no one else will ever want.” And
so it was that on entering the Adoption
Room I was faced with a wall of cages
in front and another on either side.
Knowing that the cutest, most adoptable
cats would be placed at eye level on the
wall opposite the door, I pointed to a
cage at floor level and behind the door
and asked to be shown its occupant.
Out came, what I can only describe as
a pale, orange, furry football on pencil
thin legs, with a short, skinny tail, and
buggy eyes, one of which was running
and had dried in a crust down the side
of her nose. Her data card described her
as, “about 10 years old, morbidly obese,
and the mother of two other cats also
available for adoption, the past guardian
Find these words hidden vertically, horizontally, diagonally and backwards. of whom had entered the palliative care
ward of the local hospital.” Despite their
offerings of more visually attractive
alternatives and a brief moment of self
doubt, I took the plunge and signed the
adoption papers. Her name was Lucy.
My eventual arrival home with Lucy
was met with shocked disbelief. “What
had I done? Didn’t they have anything
better?” There were mutterings of never
letter me go there unaccompanied
again, but there was no turning back.
Lucy left the travel crate in the hall and
stepped out with the self-assurance of
one who has no doubt of their elevated
position in the world. Despite the
intimidating stares of the two large male
cats who also shared the house, she
took stock of her new surroundings and
immediately made herself at home. She
simply assumed her right to the most
comfortable chair and to first place at
the food bowl. Lesson One: When you find
yourself in unfamiliar and intimidating
surroundings, step out like you own the
place. Be bold.
While in the Adoption Room I had
briefly seen Lucy’s two daughters,
cuddled together for comfort in their
cage, but looking sick and forlorn. So I
was dismayed to see their picture in the
P A G E
Don’t waste time, it’s the one thing you can’t recycle.
SPRING 2023
26
local paper a few days later under the
heading “Pet of the Week.” I know what
that usually means, and it isn’t good.
The result was inevitable; by the time
we picked them up they were not only
traumatized and depressed but also
had serious infections. Fortunately, with
lots of TLC we were able to nurse and
coax them back to mental and physical
health, and so a three cat household
became a five cat household.
With five cats in the house now,
competition for the warmest sleeping
spots, for food or treats and for human
contact was getting more competitive.
Where a less confident cat may have let
the other, larger cats intimidate her—
not Lucy. Utterly convinced that she
had an unassailable right to her share,
if not more of whatever was going,
she was always at the front of the line,
and complained the loudest at any
supposed indignity. Lesson Two: Stand
up for yourself, and never let anyone put
you down.
Despite trying various feeding
strategies we could never get Lucy
to lose an ounce of weight, and so to
the casual visitor she was nothing
more than a fat, lazy, grumpy and
visually unattractive orange fur-ball that
consistently occupied the best spot on
the couch and refused to move. Perhaps
it was because of my frequent defences
of her demeanor or her looks, or perhaps
it was because she somehow knew that
I had saved her, that the bond between
us grew. She would always seek out
my lap in the evening even if it meant
displacing the existing occupant, or
alternatively just sitting on top of them.
At night she would often sleep on my
pillow and purr loudly at the touch of
my hand. Lesson Three: Beauty is purely
subjective and superficial, it’s heart that
counts. Purr loudly and the world will
purr with you.
The years have passed and today
Lucy is 17 years old, and stone deaf. As
I write this we know that she is dying of
cancer. She has finally lost the weight we
sought to help her lose before, but she
is doing so in that way that you know
isn’t good. She is no longer first at the
food bowl, but still makes a respectable
second or third. I know her time is not
long and I wonder if she feels it too, but
if she does, it doesn’t show. She can still
purr louder than any cat I’ve known,
and always enjoys human company.
Lesson Four: Make the most of every day,
they are all precious.
Lucy has lived every day to the fullest,
and while I may not wish to emulate her
more selfish attributes I have to admire
her zest for life. When the time comes,
I will miss her.
“What we have before us are some
Breathtaking Opportunities disguised as
Insoluble Problems.” John Gardner