By Nellie Curtiss …
February is Black History Month; and it is American Heart Month, too. Of course, we all know February for Valentine and President’s Day. The edgy TV commercials keep us informed of those events. Plus, pre-Superbowl ads keep us planted indoors in anticipation of the game.
But for me, February is a random act of kindness month for our pets, and therefore, a be-kind-to-animals month.
I remember eleven years ago in Hooper how two feral cats arrived and randomly purred with kindness. Have I told you the story of Annie the cat? She ate on my porch whatever cat food I offered her. In a couple of months, I had made friends enough that she “asked” me to pick her up and usher her inside. I kept her contained in a small bathroom with food and water and her kitty litter box until a checkup at a veterinary clinic. They gave her a clean bill of health; and so I brought her home.
From heaven I know that my mom (who passed 13 years ago) spotted me as I had begun to notice a streak of fur flying across my deck; but it always zoomed so quickly that I really couldn’t tell if it was fur or feathers flying by. I propped a bag of Friskies on the porch until I could lug it in; the next day I discovered it was opened. The day following, I also noticed that there was even more missing.
Pretty soon, I saw the feline who had adopted my porch as home and hearth. It was Leo. He was a big cat not unlike what I picture Garfield to be when he is outside of cartoons. He had a huge purr that reminded me of semi-trucks that haul vegetables and potatoes to market. I guess it might be a “Chevy truck” purr, too. Soon he let me pet him; and he would appear whenever the cockers (Aloha, Lena, Pumpkin, and Sweetie) would go out for their break. Leo snuggled close to each of them.
By mid-January that year, Leo found it was warmer in certain places and in specific stances where the sunshine touched his fur like lounging on the canopy yard swing. Then one night in January our temperatures dropped 30 degrees below zero by some thermometers. It was then the strong tabby let me bring him inside without one scratch.
He began to purr with every stroke; the morsels laid down for him and Annie were gobbled up quickly.
I can’t think of a more precious gift than to be adopted by two feral cats. And Annie snuggled up by my sockless feet and chirped for me to pet her. I promptly abided and stroked her silky coat while she purred for at least five minutes.
The second milestone was Leo jumping up on the arm of the couch where I sat reviewing student papers. It was such a surprise to look him in the eyes while he waved his soft but strong body back and forth on the couch arm inviting me to rub him. I petted him too for a good five minutes while he hummed and purred.
I think that random acts of kindness can be spread through humans and animals alike. It is a month to celebrate our connections to God’s universe; it is a month to leave harmful vibes by the side of the Highway 160 and look out for those meaningful moments.
Keep those random heartfelt acts and random purrs climbing! It builds feline and human characters!
— Nelda Curtiss is a retired college educator and long-time local columnist. Reach her at columnsbynellie.com or email her at columnsbynellie@gmail.com
Cutline for picture
This picture in private collection is of a watercolor painting by my sister Barbara Curtis titled: Annie in her tree. Barbara’s artwork is displayed at From the Heart Gallery on Facebook or at the gallery located on Galveston Island, Texas.
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