Lucy Being a Cat

When my enemies draw near,
I pray that they will find
That I’m protected and secure
All tempests He will bind
With a mighty word

O, how I would have despaired
If You had not come, found me there
I can lean against Your throne and find my peace
Find my peace

--Jennifer Knapp

You wouldn’t think the sight of a cat behaving in normal feline fashion could be so phenomenal. But if you had seen Lucy’s eyes the day she came to Kitty Cottage, you’d understand what a miracle she is.

Lucy and her sisters Mina and Persephone were rescued from a hoarder. The Hoarding of Animals Research Consortium defines animal hoarding using the following criteria:

• More than the typical number of companion animals
• Inability to provide even minimal standards of nutrition, sanitation, shelter, and veterinary care, with this neglect often resulting in starvation, illness, and death
• Denial of the inability to provide this minimum care and the impact of that failure on the animals, the household, and human occupants of the dwelling

The girls’ arrival caused quite a buzz at Kitty Cottage, and for weeks visitors heard solemn stories of abuse, mental illness, death, and horrifying conditions. Only a percentage of the dozens of cats holed up in the filthy, miserable home could be rescued; it was simply too late for many of them. The survivors were farmed out to shelters all over the region, and that’s how Lucy and her sisters came to us.

I heard there were pictures that depicted the unspeakably filthy and tragic conditions they’d been rescued from, but I couldn’t bear to look at them. And I didn’t need to; their faces said enough.

To describe them as terrified wouldn’t be accurate. To call their expressions blank would be insufficient. They were not cats, but hopeless, empty creatures with hollow eyes. The sight of them was beyond heartbreaking. It was devastating.

But more than a year has passed, and our girls have made miraculous progress. They first began to show signs of life when food was put in front of them, and they were allowed to indulge in extra meals so they could regain their strength. There was nothing like a can of Fancy Feast to help them temporarily forget their fear of humans.

Then they began to play, perhaps for the fist time in their sad lives. One of the most disturbing things I’d noticed about them early on was their lack of interest in their surroundings. They didn’t engage with other cats or make eye contact with humans, and no cat toy seemed capable of putting the slightest spark in their eyes. But after a few months, they appeared to come alive again and showed us they knew what catnip mice were for after all.

Now the little girls—they’ll always be petite—are truly at home in Kitty Cottage, and they’ve learned to have fun. Lucy and Persephone like to cuddle together in a big bed under a side table in one of the main rooms, and Mina and Persephone can sometimes be seen tumbling and wrestling like kittens…in fact, I think they’re experiencing the joys of kittenhood for the first time.

It was snowing when we closed up shop last Sunday night, and nearly every window in the cottage framed a mesmerized kitty. We were anxious to get on the road and make it home safely before the weather got any worse, but we paused and looked on in quiet wonder when we spied Lucy in the window near the front door.

She too was fascinated by the giant snowflakes, following one at a time in its crazy plunge to the ground and then alternately gazing up at the sky in delicious predatory anticipation of the next one to catch her eye. She was having fun, and this revelation brought a warm flood of joy to my heart.

Lucy had her innocence back.