Sitting here by one of Bernadette’s many useless computers, useless because I cannot use them to communicate with you, my love, I lost myself in sad thoughts that you must surely think I’ve forgotten you, you probably think I’m carrying on with Bella, or possibly you don’t think of me at all, and that made me most sad. I remembered all our fond and silly and heartfelt magic messages and, lost in thought of your wonderful loving self, I turned around and…
…there, your lovely visage, your dignified bearing, your graceful self, had magically appeared on the screen of this formerly useless little computer.
After staring rather open-mouthed at your precious and lovely visage I turned and asked my wise mama Mimi what this might mean.
“She still loves you, my son,” she told me, “and you must send her a message at this moment while your thoughts are connected.”
My mother is so wise, but I had no idea how to go about this sending messages. My brother Mr. Sunshine had always sent them for me, and he was nowhere to be found, and I was afraid to leave for fear you’d think…oh, I don’t even want to imagine what you might think!
So I turned again and looked into your precious face, my flower, my Marguerite, my Daisy, my emerald-eyed princesse and knew that I didn’t need any keyboard or or mousie or magic connection to get my message to you. We are connected across the miles, and we always will be.
First, my sweet spring Daisy, I want to extend my sympathies on the loss of your fur brother and ours, Theophile. We understand it was sudden and he suffered no pain, probably that his heart gave out during his morning nap one day. I especially liked knowing that he was there to guard your precious self with his street cat smarts, and that he was your devoted friend and admirer, our former Yogurt and Pumpkin and Cream Cheese and all the other silly names I called him. We have all been thinking how lonely you must be without another house panther in your home.
We have had to delay our plans once again to storm the border and visit you. Bernadette’s car has been having some trouble and we are not sure we should attempt to escape in the Escape.I will let our clever engineer cat Mr. Sunshine determine when it would be safe.
After learning more about your illness and how other cats suffer from it, my love, I am so proud you have lived six full years with your diabetes and very few issues! I was so young when we met—only four years old!—I had no concept what this meant. But I have since learned it is very serious and you and your mama Denise have handled it so well. You are indeed a strong woman cat, and I am honored to have your love.
Do you know that this year we turned eight years old—and I am now exactly half your age? It still thrills my soul that you even deigned to look at such a young thing as myself on that June day four years ago!
And your human tells mine that we will soon have photos of you! Please do not tease me! When these arrive, I shall shoe them only to my my mama Mimi, then take them and tuck them safely away with my other memories of you. My brothers shall not see them at all, nor any of these silly foster kittens Bernadette keeps bringing in. What do they know of such mature love as yours?
I will go to the north window this evening and sing for you, and over the heat and under the stars, you will hear my song, my lady. All my love flows to you, all my thoughts are of you this evening.
With all my heart,
Read about Mlle. Daisy Emerald and the long-distance affaire between the mature French-Canadian feline lady and the young American opera star.
They so enjoy writing florid Victorian-style letters to each other, sometimes the poets, sometimes the artists, sometimes the bonneted Mlle. Daisy Emerald and the beplumed Giuseppe Verdi in their Revolutionary roles as we prepare for our Fetes Nationales.
Giuseppe’s useless human apologizes for not getting his magic messages posted. She has been busy keeping food in the bowls with all those silly computers. Giuseppe is sure his beloved will never speak to him again and I am under surveillance for possible correction if she indeed does not, but I have assured him that her heart is true.
. . . . . . .
What other photos did I feature around this date?
The Meeting, 2014
“We’d like some privacy from prying human eyes and ears here.”
“Don’t worry, she has to wear those shiny things on her face and humans can’t hear worth a frozen mousie.”
“Why doesn’t she ask us about these things before she does them?”
“I like the old ones better. These little ones, you can keep them.”
As I worked in my studio today a meeting of four great minds convened on my work table. I was not privy to their discussion but overheard nips and chirps, at least for three of them. Bean apparently slept through the whole thing, unless he was meditating in an effort to achieve a higher spiritual plane or divine inspiration.
“The last one was pretty cool.”
“I really want the bathroom window back.”
At one point the discussion grew quite heated then completely silent as Giuseppe and Mr. Sunshine engaged in a stare down. No paws were exchanged, but the siblings were silent for a while afterward.
I get the feeling it was all about the intruder in the bathroom who has been getting special foods and stealing the human’s attentions. “The thing is trying to be cute,” Bean said in a brief moment of conscious engagement. “It ran to its gate and started gabbling nonsense about meeting ninjas. I told him to stop acting like such a fool.”
You hissed at him, I interjected. Several times. Several long hisses from across the landing.
“Relax human. That’s how we adult felines talk to [snicker, snicker]…kittens. That’s how they learn their place.”
Somehow I think the little guy understands this already, and he just can’t wait for the ninjas to beat him up.
. . . . . . .
Working on a project on my computer last night, I was closely supervised by not one but three black cats. Though last night was the evening of Labor Day, still they saw fit to cease their resting and get back to work to start the week a little early with me. I certainly appreciated their assistance.
Below, what the three of them looked like, Giuseppe and Mewsette touching front paws in some arcane black cat communication code while they’ve left Mr. Sunshine to watch me. Note the letters and papers slipping off the desk under Giuseppe and Mr. Sunshine. Note that I am taking a photo and letting it happen, in fact I didn’t even notice. Cats will do that to you.
. . . . . . .
I saw this exact kitty skitter across a street when I was photographing something else in that neighborhood and slip through the posts in a gate. Luckily the street isn’t very busy at all, but the cat’s actions, and the way it ran through the gate as if it was heading home, made me concerned that it might be a stray nursing mother cat.
I finished my photo session and slowly rolled down the street in my car; I have often found stray cats are less suspicious of a car moving slowly by on the street than of human footsteps. Even though I was barefoot and walking on a sidewalk, highly unlikely to make much noise myself amid all the ambient noise of a late afternoon in a small town, I felt the car more appropriate.
As I rolled past the gate I saw the cat through the posts on a sidewalk bathing, and the cat saw me. The gate and courtyard were adjacent to an huge old abandoned rooming house that had been condemned after our flood in 2004, but people and animals regularly made it a home. I pulled over and got out leaving my engine running to mask my sounds, and aligned myself with the openings between the slots on the fenceposts.
A good camera with a viewfinder and a zoom lens makes a dandy telescope. I zoomed in on the kitty as it alternately stared at me and sat, turned around and reclined while bathing. A quick check of the white belly didn’t reveal the telltale signs of a nursing mother, and while the kitty was black in the important areas I think I detected the presence of a matched set of identifiers under the tail. Plus his, as we’ll assume, face looked as if it was developing the jowly look of an unneutered male.
As I got closer to the fence he got up and ran to the back of the courtyard. No sign of other cats or of kittens, and I was surprised to see the courtyard looking fairly neat. I’ll swing past there a few times as I pass through that side of town to see if I find more cats. If I do, I’ll talk to the neighbors, of which there are only two left on this street, but I think this one is on his own for now.
I did talk to people who lived around there but they all produced their own cats; I never did find out who this cat belonged to.
. . . . . . .
Mimi reports to my desk with cobwebs all over her face. You can see she has something important to say.
You’ve heard of the “white glove treatment”, wherein the lady of the house, wearing white gloves, follows the cleaning person around and wiping the gloves on freshly-cleaned surfaces to see if any dirt was left?
Well, this is the “black cat treatment”, wherein a black cat pokes her nose where it doesn’t belong and shows that her human is simply inadequate in yet another way.
We love our kitties, even as they try to set higher goals for us and improve our performance.
Hard to believe, but this was one of the first photos I took of Mimi without one of her children, and it was only at about this time in our relationship that she began to be friends with me! It takes a long time for the “mom” to wear off.
All images used on this site are copyrighted to Bernadette E. Kazmarski unless otherwise noted and may not be used without my written permission. Please ask if you are interested in using one in a print or internet publication. If you are interested in purchasing a print of this image or a product including this image, check my Etsy shop or Fine Art America profile to see if I have it available already. If you don’t find it there, visit Ordering Custom Artwork for more information on a custom greeting card, print or other item.