Lessons learned from lifelong friend 

by Leslie Hale, staff writer

I am not an animal person.

In elementary school, I would cry during class field trips to the petting zoo, and dogs make me so nervous that I often literally have trouble breathing when I'm around them.

A few summers ago, my family took it upon themselves to adopt a couple of abandoned baby goats and keep them in our backyard (don't ask).  For some reason, it became my responsibility to bottle-feed the goats every morning.  I consider this summer the low point of my existence.

But, as basically anyone who has ever met me will tell you, there is one exception to my general distaste for animals:  cats.  No sight is as calming to me as a sleeping cat.  Nothing can melt my heart quite as quickly as a kitten, and nothing is quite as entertaining as watching a cat entertain itself.

I was in Barnes and Noble recently and came upon a book titled something like "What My Cat Taught Me About Life."  As I flipped through the pages of story after story of life lessons that the author had learned from each of her cats, I couldn't help but think of the things my cat has taught me.

I got my cat when I was 5 years old. Her name is Fluffy, because you can't give a cat to a 5-year-old girl and expect her to name it anything but Fluffy, except maybe Buttons or Whiskers or something equally ridiculous.  My older brother found her under a tractor at my grandparents' house, and, after quite a bit of coaxing, got her to come out and brought her home to me.

At that time, she was a little, gray ball of fluff, and she was terrified of these strange creatures who had taken her in.  But after a few days, she realized that living with us wasn't such a bad deal; she had food, a warm place to sleep, toys to play with, and even a (fake) tree in the living room to climb.  Though still a little skittish, she decided to stay, which has resulted in 15 happy years, and counting, with us.  Lesson number one:  Things that are scary at first can turn out to be really good for you.

One thing I have noticed about Fluffy is that she is a very gentle, giving soul.  Though her age prevents her from doing much prowling now, she used to go on frequent hunting expeditions as a young cat, often returning with a catch that she would leave on the porch for some lucky human to come across the next time they stepped outside.

I'm not sure what we were supposed to do with those trophies, but it's the thought that counts.  Strange as it may seem, it always brought a smile to my face to open the door to find a dead bird or lizard that my cat had brought for me.  Lesson number two:  Perform random acts of kindness to brighten someone's day.

Fluffy has had several litters of kittens, and she was always a great mother.  But one litter in particular stands out in my mind.  The kittens weren't actually hers, but belonged to a stray that had a litter in our yard and then abandoned them.  Though Fluffy had a litter of her own that was only a few weeks old, she "adopted" the abandoned kittens, nursing and cleaning them as if they were her own, and they grew into happy, healthy cats.  I even gave my favorite kitten in the litter, Milo, to my grandmother, and she still has him to this day.  Lesson number three:  a little love and generosity goes a long way.

A few nights ago, my cat was sleeping in my room, as usual.  She was lying on my stomach as I lied in bed watching TV, and suddenly I noticed her looking intently at something behind my bed.  She stood up, crawled onto my pillow, and began inspecting one of the shelves built into my headboard.

After a while, she stood up on her hind paws and put her front paws on the shelf.  She stared for a few more minutes, then climbed in.  Then, realizing the shelf wasn't deep enough for her to turn around and face outward, she let out a disgruntled "meow" and, with my help, climbed out backwards.

But she didn't give up.  She continued to survey the area, and a few minutes later, she tried again, this time at an angle.  She repeated this process a few times until she had figured out a way to climb inside the shelf at such an angle that she could lie inside it while facing outward, and then she slept there most of the night.  Lesson number four:  If you want something badly enough, you'll keep working at it until you get it right.

But I think the greatest lesson my cat has taught me during the past 15 years is to be content with what I have.  Fluffy leads a simple life, to say the least.  She typically starts the day by running haphazardly through the house, eyes wide, hair standing up, claws digging into the carpet.  Then she has a little breakfast, takes a little nap, wakes up, and walks around the house, stopping occasionally to bat around a pencil on the floor, explore a closet, or lie in a basket of freshly-washed laundry (this seems to be her favorite pastime).

Though the activities may vary in order from day to day, her routine stays basically the same, and yet she never seems to tire of it or lose interest in the things she enjoys.  Any given afternoon, you can find Fluffy on the bench by the front window of our house, lying in the sun, tail swishing contentedly, watching the world pass by through the window.  Lesson number five:  Love your life, and take advantage of its simple pleasures.

I have never known life without a cat, and I hope I never do.  Whether you are a cat lover like me or you find companionship in another animal, I suggest taking a closer look at how they live.  Chances are you can take something from it to apply to your own life.