After my last (long ago) post about my first kitten fostering gig, which ended with – “My next fostering gig is starting today. This time I’m getting an older cat who is being put up for adoption straight away, so I shouldn’t have her for long. I anticipate a slightly less eventful period, this time” – I confess that was complete bollocks. I still have that cat. Her name is Phoenix.
Yep, my freedom from commitment, which I dreamt of using to travel like I was 21 again (dreams are free), was short-lived. I was no match for a sweet older lady with charms. Underneath that charm, though, she has a swipe like lightening, which I discovered when I was once stupid enough in the early days of our acquaintance to wriggle my bare fingers near her paws. Her sweet but deadly style is very impressive. I’m taking lessons from her.
She also really, really doesn’t like other cats or kittens, which became evident when I got another kitten to foster after Phoenix had taken up residence with me. The deadly looks she that kitten gave me rather a lot of anxiety on its’ behalf. There have been no more foster kittens since then.
Phoenix had a less than luxurious life before finding this easy-to-woo human. She’d been a young man’s cat, before he left New Zealand around eight years ago. After that, she became his parents’ cat. I don’t think it would be wrong to assume that it’s a fairly common global phenomenon for many parents to find themselves the new carers of domestic animals in this manner. I know my parents did. However, the young man’s parents had big dogs, and they were boss of the house, which meant that Phoenix spent most of her time outside, with only quick forays inside to eat. A wee while ago, the young man’s parents decided to sell up, buy a motorhome, and go wandering. The dogs were part of the plan, but Phoenix didn’t fit with it, so they asked my sister if she could find a new home for her. And she did.
Phoenix has very little desire to go outside now, and spends her days sitting in the window, playing with her toys (strange, but true), sleeping, and eating. On the matter of eating, her waistline is noticeably rounder than it was when she first arrived here. Her toilet requirements are met with the installation of a litter box in the bathroom, hence she has no need to go outside, so the birds are safe. On the occasions I’ve left the sliding door open, though, and she’s roused herself to go and sniff the air, she’s damn fast for a thirteen-year-old cat if a bird does touch down on the lawn. Luckily, there’s some space between the door and lawn, so the birds get away in plenty of time.
Being a sizeable cat, even before becoming a chunky cat, she sometimes finds the litter box not quite big enough for her business, and drops her cables over the side of the litter box onto the floor. If there’s any redeeming feature about this, it’s that she does lay a very tidy cable, which makes them easy to scoop up and deposit into the human toilet. And, yes, I’ve made a note to myself several times now to get her a bigger litter box. Of course, she also steals my chair at the table, and barfs up on the carpet from time to time. Is there a cat in the world who doesn’t do these things?
In the meantime, I still harbour dreams of travelling. If they’re only ever dreams, I don’t really care. That’s a good thing about getting older – we refine the art of living the c’est la vie way. But, I still enjoy staying in the loop of what’s going on with JourneyWoman just in case 😊
Apart from a fat cat now ruling my life, I’m a tad involved in the terf wars. That keeps me busy and on my toes, but I don’t write about that here. For those who don’t instantly want to shoot me down in flames for being a heretical, bigoted, vile, un-woke transphobe – in other words, a women’s rights’ advocate – or unfollow me in disgust, I write about that from the (mostly) NZ perspective on my A B’Old Woman account on Substack.
It’s good to keep some parts of our lives separate, so here is the safe space for cat stories and older woman venturings. Having said that, in the interests of complete honesty, I can’t guarantee that either of those will always have no overlap with my ‘dark side’. If you can c’est-la-vie that, happy to have you along – otherwise, safe travels with your own journey, and feel free to not tell me how bad I am. If you really want to see ‘bad’ just come and wriggle your fingers in front of Phoenix 😊
A B'Old Woman 
Aww Phoenix looks lovely. I bet she’s enjoying having the run of the house and not having to share it with large dogs. Our cat has a cat flap but she still prefers to spend most of her time indoors. It just goes to show all living creatures like modern comforts.
And good for you for standing up for women’s rights. New Zealand needs more of you!
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You know already how I feel about trans women and men, but I also believe there’s been too much emphasis on political “purity” and how one can’t be friends with someone who doesn’t always take the same side on some issues. I’ve been pilloried for being merely vegetarian instead of vegan, and I don’t understand how choosing the one makes me evil or somehow socially unacceptable with some groups. Anyway, congratulations on your old lady cat: I think older adult cats make for better adoptions than cute little kittens. Old cats are better behaved (usually) and easier to live with; they might not be as adorably toy-like as a kitten, but they’re less likely to destroy your home in a moment of playfulness, or decide it prefers pissing on your shoes than in the litter box. (Mostly: I knew of one poor woman whose five-year-old cat–which makes him middle aged, I think—decided her husband’s dress oxfords made the perfect place to pee.) You can travel while owning a cat if you can find a reliable sitter: I manage to leave home for weeks at a time while Sunny is being looked after by a friend who likes cats but doesn’t want to own another one. (She accidentally ran over her last cat, and she is still stricken with guilt.) Of course, Sunny hates me when I come home, at least until the next feeding time. Good luck with whatever path you choose to travel!
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Nice to hear from you again 🙂 Yes, I must admit that an older cat creates less havoc than kittens – lol! I’d certainly rather get a cat-sitter, too, than put Phoenix in a cattery if I wanted to go travelling, even though I have used them before and don’t discredit the usefulness of them, or that they are cheaper than paying a cat-sitter. I’m not sure if I could get a free sitter – it’s a big ask of someone to come in every day for two or three weeks. My nephew lives in the rear unit in the same row of three that I live in (I live in the front unit), so he would do it if asked, I’m sure, but as I said, it’s a big ask. A few days is a different matter. Anyway, I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it.
I have had a lot of change within myself about ‘purity politics’. I can understand how it comes about, sometimes without us being very aware of what we’re doing, and thinking that we’re just trying to be ‘good’ people. We humans simply cannot attain perfection or Utopia, and striving for it in the mistaken belief that it’s possible only leads to more conflict and misery. Most of the time, the best we can do is travel the Middle Way, as the Buddhists say (at least, I think it’s attributed to them), which doesn’t mean not striving for, or achieving, anything. Of course, we’ll veer off to either side from time to time, whether by intention or inattention, but ultimately the Middle Way is the place we get along best with ourselves, others, and the world for the most part.
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