One year ago next month, July 2011, Molly and I found each other. I wasn’t looking for her and she was hiding from the entire world inside a thick, prickly blackberry patch where she felt safe and had convinced herself that no one and nothing would reach her. For one brief moment, however, and as I happened to be driving past, Molly stepped out of her prickly place. I saw her but she saw only the vehicle I was driving and not me. Molly’s unhappy experience of living inside her prickly place alongside life’s busy and dangerous roadway had taught her some very important concepts – run from cars, hide very well, and hide very fast. And so the instant that I saw her and she saw my car, she vanished back into her prickly place.
Molly was one of so many ‘throw away’ pets and she was coping as best she could at that time and given her life experiences thus far as a 9-month old kitten. And she had no way of knowing if any particular vehicle – the façade – was holding an animal-loving mush ball or a monster inside. I could have been driving a van with a flashing sign reading “I LOVE CATS!”, and wafting tuna perfume but Molly would not have responded positively. Molly had been seriously traumatized and so without thinking or knowing that there were options, she ran to hide. The vehicles that carry us along in life can be excellent disguises for whomever or whatever is riding inside. Many folks use vehicles to appear to be something they are not, or to embellish themselves, or scare others away. The vehicles people use are not only their fancy cars; they are their careers, educational levels, clothes, and most importantly, their words and actions. When people are not genuine and they seek to be something they are not, other people have few defenses against this especially when the manipulative person is very good at what he or she does. And animals have no way in hell of discerning the difference. There was no way for Molly to know whether the occupant of my vehicle was an animal-loving mush ball or the monster she feared.
At some point prior to being dumped, Molly had been spayed and this is evidence that she came either from an animal shelter or from someone who cared enough to pay for this surgery. Someone had cared – but then decided for some reason that Molly and her tender cat-heart were dispensable. People can be that way sometimes. And most other people, and certainly all pets, never see it coming. Or they deny the obvious because they do not have the skills to cope. When it hits them, they are instantly transported to a very frightening and terrible place. And so, I am sure that because of her sorry experiences in life thus far, Molly had no hope that anyone or anything could possibly be trusted. Maybe she believed that because she had been mistreated and then dumped by someone who formerly professed to care for her and showed that care occasionally, there was something very wrong with her and it was all her fault. For her, the only option was to hide away from all contact. That way she would never attach herself with all her heart to another human who had only self-absorbed, manipulative, transient feelings of love and possibly even abusive intentions, who would eventually either drive her away or dump her – again. She would never again be fooled by facades that promised love and delivered pain.
I stopped the car, parked close by, but far enough away so that she would not notice my car but would focus on me instead. I carefully approached the entrance to Molly’s hideaway, stooped down and softly called, ‘here kitty, kitty’. I heard a faint meow. I repeated my call several times with all the concern and tenderness that I truly felt for the little kitten and each time she came a bit closer. Finally Molly peeped out and I scratched her head, then her shoulders, and then her back. She loved that! It seemed that for a moment she was transported back to a happier day and a little cat smile formed on her thin, dirty cat face.
I have an understanding of typical cat behavior based on education and years of experience. The moment Molly showed even a faint glimmer of trust and hope enough to emerge from her prickly place, I knew that there was hope of a better life for her. And the moment Molly responded to my scratching and petting, I realized that she was not a feral cat that had never been shown love and was lost to the possibility of a happy, domesticated life in a loving home. Molly was a cat who had known love but had lost it. Molly was traumatized – but that does not have to be a forever thing. But I also knew that if I were to try to coach Molly, bribe her, or show her my intentions that she would follow her ‘rules’ and run and hide again. So I grabbed her by the scruff of her neck, and while avoiding razor claws and lots flashing teeth, took her to the car and drove her to my home. I know that I saved Molly from a cruel death from speeding cars, hungry raccoons, coyotes, or such. I knew when I grabbed her that she would not be grateful, would be angry, and that for the time being that I would not be her friend. But Molly was worth the risk.
Molly spent the next 2 weeks living in her own little safe place, in my quilting and sewing room which is the finished garage and the furthest room away from the rest of my home. It was ‘her’ room, and I gave her a cat box, food, water, and a basket filled with soft fabric scraps to sleep in. At first she did what she knew – she hid in a dark place behind some binders. After a few days of quiet, regular feedings and intermittent visits from me and my excellent scratching and petting fingers, she started to relax a bit. She actually allowed herself to sleep in her basket as I sat and sewed. After a week we were bonding and I began to introduce Molly into the rest of the house – first for a look-see, then a minute walk around – then a few more – until finally after the end of the second week I brought her cat box, food, and other items into the house and she lived in the quilting room no more. Lots of patience, true caring, and understanding works that way with pets – and people too. But it has to be genuine and come from a trusted place. Wounded animals – and people – developed a sixth sense and ‘know’ a phony.
Molly was with us only six months when our other cat, Ork, passed away. This was a sad time in the house and Molly sensed that. She made a real effort to sit with us all as we grieved. A house is not complete without a pair of cats. And so soon I dashed off to find a second cat to help heal the pain of Ork’s loss and also to fill the void. I found 9-week old Emma at our local shelter and brought her home. Her arrival was appreciated by everyone – but Molly who hid for two days and displayed unhappiness. Then something unexpected and amazing happened. Molly ‘decided’ that Emma needed a mom. And Emma must have felt the same because they became inseparable and are to this day. Emma’s trusting innocence is well balanced by Molly’s ‘street smarts’. Molly guards Emma; Emma brings out the playful kitten in Molly. Our chairs, curtains, clothes, and every other item in the house have suffered accordingly but hey, those are just things and are replaceable. Molly and Emma are not.
I saved Molly but in many ways, Molly is bringing me to some understandings that only time, love, and experience offer. S**t happens in life. We don’t ask for it and no one really deserves it but it happens. We are hurt, thrown out, manipulated and otherwise pained by others. We ‘learn’ to hide, to blame, to deny, and practice other self-destructive behaviors. We often don’t see help when it arrives or flashes a neon sign saying, “I LOVE YOU!” or wafts loving actions our way. We believe that the safest rules in life are to run away, hide very well, and hide very fast. We stop trying to discern the decent people from the phony people no matter what their façade may be. We stop living, stop loving, and stop trying. We hide in our prickly patch and refuse to come out. We become angry, judgmental, and full of – well, s**t. But unlike animals, humans have the capacity to learn to detach, to learn to move forward in spite of the obstacles, and to find peace, joy, and love in life again. I love Molly and Molly loves me. That is enough for Molly. Molly has found someone to love her and in Emma she has found someone to love and care for. But every day I still see that traumatized kitten in Molly whenever a car whizzes by or when a dog barks or when someone in the house says an angry word. The difference now is that instead of following her old rules, Molly will come to me and ask for reassurance and will accept that reassurance. Because of her year of living with love in my home, she has learned to expect love and not pain. But the memories of those bad days will forever be with her and she will forever react to their triggers. People are like that too. We never forget and we have triggers that cause us to want to run and hide. But just like Molly, we can learn to discern the safe from the unsafe, the good environments from the unhealthy, the trust-able from the not, and that real love does not bring devastating pain. Real love tells and shows us that whoever we are, no matter how imperfect; wherever we came from, no matter how painful; wherever we wish to go and be and do – is just fine. What matters – and the only thing that matters – is that we keep trying and moving forward and hoping. We just keep on keepin’ on with good intent and with the help of caring, understanding, loving others, we too will eventually get to happiness – just like Molly.
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