bethofalltrades

When we were in Atlanta (best night of the tour, in my opinion--- low drama, high love, great crowd energy) at the Variety, I met a lovely little cat named Creamcheese Brownie.

She's part tortie and part big orange cat (yes, I'm making that a breed) and she walked right up to me and rubbed her head on my leg. I stopped to pet her and Lisa, the merch contact I was working with that night, said that I should take her home. I said that cats and tour buses do not mix so well, sadly because CB was definitely delightful. A little feral, but the best one usually are (cats AND women.)

CB lives behind the venue and ventures in occasionally during set-up for shows. She'd been around the Variety for quite some time and Lisa was concerned about how she'd fare during the winter months.

So. Internetz, make me proud. For Christmas I want a home (and a new name) for Creamcheese Brownie.

Folks not in Atlanta, think of people you might know there who need 10 pounds of half-tortie lovin' in their life. Folks in Atlanta, consider if you've got room in your home and heart for a sweet cat who's had a rough life.

I got this email from David tonight and it made me tear up a bit:
Do you ever think about how lucky our cats are? I mean, life didnt start out so great for either Sascha or Cinderella, but now they live with us, they get all the attention they could ever want, they have warm beds to sleep in, all the food they want, they are safe and warm and not abused, they have people who love them. Sascha is laying here on the bed purring up a storm. He is so happy and for over 15 years, he has been safe and loved. It is really a wonderful thing.

It is. Just today I curled up with Cinderella and felt so lucky to have her around. Just yesterday I almost kicked a girl out of my bed for criticizing her. I love that cat more than I've ever loved an idea, a city or a woman. And she's neurotic as hell and skittish and she hits when she's overstimulated and she is convinced that if I am out of her sight for a moment it means I'm NEVER coming back and she wakes up early when I'd rather sleep in late and I LOVE HER SO MUCH IT HURTS. And when I wake up in the morning to find that she's stretched out along my back, keeping it warm where the covers fell away, I know she loves me too.

And Cinderella started out as a feral cat that nobody wanted. Even when she came to me, she was an afterthought, an unadoptable who needed a quiet place to hide.

Now she runs this place.

Cinderella wants Creamcheese Brownie to have a home too.



Love,
Beth

About a year ago, I got dumped, so I got a cat. Cinderella. No one else wanted her because she was scared of everything and didn't like to be petted or held. She hid all the time. She was hardly a proper pet.

It took some time, but Cinderella and I bonded. I love this cat more than I ever knew I could. And in her cat-way, she loves me.

But there are still many rules. No sudden movements. No holding her. And certainly no picking her up. She will sit beside me on the bed and cuddle as close as possible, but the second she feels at all confined, she bolts.

Cinderella is a lot like me that way.

Tonight, we were sitting on the bed and I was paying a little bit of attention to her. Cinderella is truly happier now that I work from home. As I type this she is cuddled into the curve of my waist.

I decided to pick her up. Just do it. We attempt "picking up" every couple of days. We always fail. As soon as my hands are on her firm enough to hold her, she is terrified and wants to be gone.

But today it worked. I picked her up. She looked at me. I looked at her.

Neither of us had any idea what to do from there. She hid her face in the crook of my arm. I stood very very still.

And then I put her down.

This is VICTORY.

Here's to the next ten years.

Love,
Beth