Camilla hasn't met Stormie yet--but no matter--because I have. She is a long, shy, furry delight with bright amber eyes and belongs to April and Dave Baer (with Cooper and Nate) who owned the 1850 house where I live in an 1890 addition and before that, April's parents, Sally and Rich Bright, who lovingly restored and rehabilitated it in the 80s. Anyway, there are long and deep connections here. But let April tell the "Stormie" story:
"Shoveling snow in the silence of the blizzard, my husband Dave heard a faint meow. In between dealing with this winter's Snowmageddon, he ducked into the house to announce that he had found a cat, had put her temporarily into the garage, and asked, "Do we have tuna?'"
We had lost our long time companion Sammy, a spunky orange tabby, to old age just under a year ago. It had been traumatic for the family, especially my son Cooper. It was a time when we finally felt ready to adopt a cat, but we were waiting for spring and for our newborn, Nate, to be a few months older.
"What is she like?," I wondered as I trudged to the garage through 3 feet of snow that was still falling. In the garage I found a scared and scarred cat with a gentle gaze in her amber eyes. She looked as though she had been living rough for quite awhile, but she seemed comfortable with me and probably relieved to be inside.
As the snow continued to fall over the coming days, Stormie grew less reticent and when we were finally able to get out to our vet, she pronounced Stormie a healthy, female, domestic long hair, who was not pregnant. We brought her into the house and gave her a bath, then posted signs around the neighborhood and on the Internet to see if someone in the neighborhood would claim her. After a month, when we heard nothing, we accepted that Stormie would be staying with us forever. Since the blizzard, Stormie cat has begun to integrate into our family. She's developing her cat patterns--sleeping on my head, marking the baby, meowing for her meal in the middle of the night.
Dave and I have even started to develop the funny cat monologue that we did with Sammy for so many years. It includes lines like this, "Stray, I"m not a stray, I was a show cat worth thousands don't you remember?" The baby wasn't old enough, the storm was inconvenient, and we never imagined adopting a cat with such a luxurious coat--all of it irrelevant as she cuddles up with me at night, looks at me with the amber eyes, and says, "meow."
April Baer is warmly thanked for her blog content. "Stormie" gets a pat on the head and a cat treat! Come up the stairs and get it!!
Photos: Kay Weeks
Posted on Mothers' Day
May 9, 2010