When I first met Aphrodite she was up for grabs; a ‘Nine Lives Rescue’ service feline. She was scrawny and lanky; where did she get such a big name, as clearly she was not the pick of the litter. She was maybe a year or so old. As I had no specific breed of cat in mind; just that it had to be a female and have short hair. Not yet aware of her extraordinary nature, I took her home without having the appropriate appreciation.
My veterinarian discovered a fairly large hole in Aphrodite’s heart and proclaimed she may not live long. I accepted this news with mixed emotions and understood I would place no demands on her and take on the daunting responsibility of a life.
Given her heart diagnosis, Aphrodite’s tenacity came as a surprise: she made it immediately clear that she was queen! Who could argue! So I waited on her hand and foot; cleaned her toilet as if it were my own. Her independent nature was also a miraculous marvel; aloft on her throne (cat tree) she would observe her queendom. All but me and a few close human friends were kept at bay. Those who challenged her rule were met with swift and sometimes sharp reprimand.
During her seven years, the first six, she was the only feline in the house. Recently, sincing her time was near, I attempted to introduce two other cats; one at a time into our household. Of this, she was none too happy. My timing sucked in this regard. Aphrodite needed more, not less of my attention. I needed to be more attentive and affectionate; not less. I keep thinking Pieper needs more than my company…someone to play with…as I said, my timing was all wrong. Continue reading