Hecaté arrived on our doorstep, quite literally, on 9th Dec 2010. She found Paul chopping wood and gave a tremendous yowl – he thought it was the Puma of Madley come to eat him! Then this very small, skinny and slightly bedraggled little black cat arrived at his feet. She made straight for our door and stood waiting for him to open it. He galloped though to me in the living room and stood there, all of a dither, saying, ‘There’s this little black kitten in the yard …’ to which I responded, ‘What’s she doing still in the yard?’
Well, that was it. Hecaté had arrived.
I first met Hecaté in 2003, 6 months after Goldy had departed. In that incarnation Hecaté was a small, black feral cat from the Cats Protection. She stayed 3 days and then escaped to go live in the feral colony over sat the BT station, it near broke my heart … but she left me a message to say she’d be back. Possibly her huge yowl was a sort of Schwarzenegger-thing? Whatever, I lived in gentle hope.
I met her next on Crete in 2006. There, again, she was a feral cat who came and lived in the cottage with me for the whole time I was there.
I wanted to bring her home but she told me – in no uncertain terms – she liked living in Crete even if it was a bit rough being a feral cat in a country like that. She had got a pitch and wanted to stay, even if it meant she had a very short life. I bowed to her wishes.
What they tell you three times is true.
That’s magic lore and always works out for me … so here was Hecaté, arrived at my door, for the third time.
However, it’s somewhat guns-n-roses, not an easy ride! Hecaté has Siamese in her, it shows in her lovely long tail, big triangular ears, pointy face, deep green eyes. And, of course, the yowl! Hecaté is vocal and loud. If you know Siamese you’ll know what I mean. She’s also a pushy and feisty girl … I’m Siamese, if you please! Getting her not to hiss, swat and generally be a cow to my two darling middle-aged girls has been difficult. They were both super mums to their kittens and are very gentle, sweet souls. Hecaté tried acting the bully! Not good. I’ve had frightful tearing times wondering if I should be keeping her or if she should go to someone who would adore her and where she could be THE CAT. However, after a nasty bust up with Isoldé things seem to be settling, we have now had 3 meals with all three of them eating in the same room and I think I won’t need to rename the place “Much Hissing in the Marsh” – older readers may recall the radio programme “Much Binding in the Marsh” … Google it!
I’m pleased. Paul is completely in love with Hecaté but, like most men, won’t admit it!
She’s a bright as a button and understands what I say. I only wish I was as good. Shaman or not, I felt in my bones that she had already been spayed although there was nothing to show, all her fur was good. I will not keep cats without them being neutered, there are far, far too many unwanted kittens and I’ve no intention of adding to the poor things. I felt that Hecaté was telling me she had been spayed … but I was afraid I was mistaken!
Hecaté went to the vet’s last Friday to be spayed. They are lovely folk there and the boss-lady is a homeopath as well. They called me after an hour or so to say they had Hecaté shaved and had found a scar, it probably was a spaying-scar but might not be, if we didn’t check today and then she came on heat in spring we’d have to do it all over again. She was already under the anaesthetic, so had gone through the worst of the stress, so I agreed to continue, going in under the belly to check what was inside. Of course, Hecaté was right, she had been spayed! I could have kicked myself, putting her through all that again … and I call myself a shaman! Oh dear! Perhaps I should take up road-sweeping !!!
Ho hum! Hecaté was very kind to me when I came to collect her, licking my fingers and very glad to see me. I apologised profusely … much to the consternation of the young veterinary nurse. I think he’s not used to people talking to their animals friends, he was very young. He’ll get the hang of it if he stays working for Ailsa *g*. she looks a bit of a mess with various shaved patches in her fur and did complain that she’d been hoping for a new year’s eve party and how did I expect her to go out with her coat looking so ramshackle and stitches up her belly? I was even more apologetic.
You do know the saying, don’t you? Dogs have owners, cats have staff. I’ve been staf to cats for near 60 years now *g*, I know my place!
However, when it comes to hissing and growling I am alpha-cat! I’ve found that a serious hiss in the face from me gets respect from Hecaté. It terrifies the Girls. So I think some form of working out of space is happening gradually.
The funniest thing is that, if it doesn’t work out here, there is a waiting list 4-long to have Hecaté. She has a host of admirers who would love to give her a home. Thank you all so much, I really hope it won’t be necessary as we’d love her to live here with us, and it was our door she came to so we are making the effort.
She slept on Paul’s bed with him the other night …
And the Girls are coming back into the living room, normal life seem to be heading our way again. Watch this space *g*.