Tag Archives: raven

Rusty, Misty, and Raven…

Goodbyes are only for those who love with their eyes.
Because for those who love with heart and soul,
there is no such thing as separation – Rumi.

Rusty - ginger cat, Misty - grey cat, and Raven - black cat

Twenty-eight years ago, just after Vince and I got married, we rescued Rusty, a skinny five-month-old kitten, living wild under my in-laws’ garden shed. We took him home and discovered he was literally a week or so away from death. He had skinned pads on his paws, half a tail, and was severely malnourished. We loved him for twelve years. Four months after losing Rusty, we took our children to pick up Misty, a five-week-old grey kitten. At the farm, the farmer (inundated with cats and kittens) shrewdly placed the tiniest black kitten, Raven, of the same litter in my ten-year-old daughter’s hands. We went home with two cats. Last month and this month, after fifteen-and-a-half years, we said goodbye to both cats with heavy hearts.

We have been extremely blessed by all three cats, and as Charles Dickens said – What greater gift than the love of a cat. Cats love because they want to and when you have the love of a cat you truly have a gift.

I want to remember my cats and how their little paws have stamped themselves right into my heart.

four photos of Rusty ginger cat. ONe on bricks, one asleep on bed, one in a tree, one in snow.

Rusty © Lisa Shambrook

Rusty stole my heart, my little orange tiger, and my shadow. Wherever I went Rusty followed. He’d accompany me in the garden, sunning himself amongst the catmint while I gardened, he’d sit beside me as I wrote on my laptop pushing his head under my arm, and when my lap was empty he’d cuddle up on it.

Rusty was adorable, had the softest snow white and golden ginger fur, and the brightest amber and green eyes. He was the sweetest cat in the world, loving unconditionally like a puppy!

Rusty was also the clumsiest cat I’ve ever known, missing half his tail seemed to affect his balance and spacial awareness, making him a cat who’d jump up onto a table and knock everything off it in the process! He even got lost when we moved to Wales getting shut in a neighbour’s garage overnight. Then another time he disappeared and failed to come when he was called. We found him around the corner mewing piteously at a neighbour’s identical front door. He was my world when we had no other pets and a young family. He was gentle and playful and all the children adored him. He passed away at twelve-years-old after kidney failure from an infected cat bite.

It was April 2004, and I missed Rusty so bad that we decided to find another cat, and Vince knew a friend with a farm full of cats, and we went to collect Misty. The farmer was canny and when Raven was placed in Bekah’s hands there was no going back and one cat became two.

Though sisters, Misty and Raven were so different. Misty was grey and white like the early morning mist, and she purred quietly, was gentle, loved her food, and didn’t stray far from the house. Raven, as black and sleek as midnight, purred like a motorbike, was fierce, adventurous, and a true explorer. Misty loved bathing in the sun close to the house, probably so she could easily hear food being put out… and Raven would disappear for hours and hours, traipsing through the forests and coming back whenever she fancied.

four photos of Misty grey cat - one stretching on bed, one in a box, one with a daisy, one with pumpkin

Misty © Lisa Shambrook

Misty and Raven spent their whole lives ignoring each other, as siblings often do – you never found them together, they wouldn’t sleep on the same bed during the day, and up until their last year they hissed at each other whenever they met in the house! However, if one was in distress, they joined forces and fought for each other.

Raven got into trouble, a lot. She was tiny, skinny, and passionate, but she attracted trouble like a magnet, costing us hundreds in vet visits to treat the wounds she sustained from other neighbourhood cats. Misty would sit on our flat extension roof and when other cats came by with threats Raven would rock up and rescue her. As they got older though, more cats appeared in the locality and they found it harder to hold their own against the younger cats. A few years ago, a family of six cats showed up and ours found it hard. When Raven went missing for three days, and finally turned up stressed and perturbed, we decided to make them house cats. Misty accepted it easily, having never gone far from home, Raven though found it much harder, but it worked out and they became happy indoor cats.

four photos of Raven black cat - one curled up, one looking stately, one with a daisy, one with pumpkins

Raven © Lisa Shambrook

Misty slept with Cait, and Raven cuddled up to Bekah every night, enjoying the convenience of our beds and ignoring any cat beds we ever provided. When Bekah moved out Raven chose my bed, and stalked in every night after being fed. She’d sit on my pillow while Vince and I hugged, then she’d mew when she decided it was bed time, and push between us to claim the centre of the bed!

We now have our beds back to ourselves, and that’s probably when I miss them the most. It’s nice to cuddle my husband without interruption, but I used to love going to sleep with a warm furry body curled up against my shoulder.

When you needed a hug Misty and Raven would be there, snuggling close, pushing their head against you, purring and loving. After fifteen years their health mirrored each other and they slipped downhill with old age and common cat issues. Misty developed hyperthyroidism and then kidney failure, and Raven was thwarted by liver tumours, and they passed away within a month of each other.

Rusty - ginger cat, Misty - grey cat, and Raven - black cat

Rusty, Misty, Raven © Lisa Shambrook

Like I said, echoing Dickens, what greater gift than the love of a cat.
We had one of the greatest gifts, three times over.

To Rusty, Misty, and Raven…

For the love of our Furry Friends…

A post by Laura Zera this morning, along with a status posted by Jo Cannon: “In psychiatry, whenever we see a depressed patient, we always do a ‘risk assessment’, to determine the likelihood of that person committing suicide. As part of that assessment, we ask the patient what stops them from taking their own life. And do you know what they answer? Do you know what I hear, again and again and again? MY DOG. When I ask people what stops them from committing suicide, they always say: I COULD NEVER LEAVE MY DOG. Oh my GOODNESS how people under-estimate the power of that relationship! Dogs protect property and gardens and buildings, but they also protect people. And so often they are literally the difference between being here and not being here. So God help the next person who tells me it’s “just a dog”. Dogs save lives. We just don’t appreciate quite how many.”  reminded me how important our pets are…so I thought I’d tell you about mine.
Rusty (please do not use)
We rescued Rusty from beneath a garden shed, when he was five months old. He was skinny and scrawny and full of fleas and worms, and his pads were scraped and raw. The vet said he wouldn’t have made it past another week or so. 
Rusty became my shadow, followed me everywhere, sat beside me and loved me unconditionally. 
He only had half a tail, and was the clumsiest creature I’ve ever known, but I adored him. We lost him when he was twelve years old due to kidney failure, but he was my constant companion for those years! 
Misty and Raven (please do not use)
We only meant to pick up one cat from the farm – but the owner (who was over-run with felines) placed a tiny black kitten in my daughter’s hand, after I’d chosen the sole grey kitten, and there was no question we’d be going home with two! 
These two are sisters, but live in tolerance – eating from separate bowls, sleeping on separate beds and hissing every time they pass each other…don’t know why! Misty is cute, cuddly and chatty, she loves eating and sleeping (all day), while Raven prefers stalking, hunting and adventure out in the wilds. opposites in every way!
Raven and Misty (please do not use)
Roxy (and Dan) (please do not use)
Hubby was brought up with a dog, and asked for a dog (and a motorbike) constantly – he now has both! Roxy became ours at eight weeks, and was my first experience of owning a dog. I was not a fan of canines, always referring to myself as a cat person, but after a couple of weeks reservation I became a fully-fledged dog person and fell head-over-heels for Roxy!
Roxy (please do not use)
She became my companion and I experienced the devotion and complete love of a puppy as she grew up. We laughed at her enormous ears and neurosis, enjoyed playful tussles and wondered at her beauty!
Roxy (and Caitlin) and bubbles (please do not use)
So full of life and love. I can’t imagine life without her, my gorgeous, playful five-year-old!
Roxy (please do not use)
Sometimes we under-estimate the value of our furry friends…they offer us love, companionship, adoration, fun, friendship, education and reason. There is nothing more welcoming than a dog’s wagging tail and leap of happiness when you come home from a hard day! They contribute more to our lives than we realise!

12 Days of Christmas: Spirit

A tale of possession awaits Day Ten of 12 Days of Christmas:

Spirit
She didn’t know what thrust her towards the cemetery, an unusual shortcut home, but she saw him kneeling at the grave, unaware, as she hurried through the church gates. Unwilling to disturb him, she walked quickly down the York flagstone path. As she passed the grave she shivered and her face tingled in the cold chill of winter’s evening. At home, she barely glanced in the mirror before settling for the night with a hot chocolate and book, so her green eyes turned blue, was a surprise the next morning.
It was a perverse desire to see the grieving man again that took her through the graveyard another night, but he was gone and the chill that surged through her was one of guilty disappointment.
Two more nights, and the shortcut became an obsession, but he was never there. 
Cold nights played havoc with her hair, curls loosened and her locks darkened almost as black as the raven watching on a nearby tomb.
The cemetery became familiar and the grieving man a memory until two weeks later when she bumped into him, dropping her bag, as he wandered down the cobbled path. He raised his head, stepped aside and paused as their eyes met. His eyes lit up his tearstained face as he stared at her, and his hand reached out to touch her arm and shivers twisted down her spine. 
His apology coffee became a meal and two weeks later she crossed his threshold. She shivered and glanced in the mirror by the door; she’d lost weight and grown taller. Then she noticed the portrait, ebony hair and blue eyes, and she suddenly knew why he adored her. He watched as the silent raven landed on her shoulder, shivered possessively and vanished…and his love was finally home. 
(298 Words)
Day Ten: October – Spirit
Take time to read all the other stories…

Forbidden Love – Call of the Dark

This is my entry into the Forbidden Love Blog Hop hosted by LillieRuth and Janelle
These are my star-crossed lovers…

Call of the Dark

She waited as he closed the door, his passion glinting in his eyes. She leaned against the wall, her heart pounding wildly and her soul yearning like she’d never before known.  Her ivory veil rippled in the breeze seeking entry through the open window and he was at her side tenderly cupping her face. Her eyelids fluttered and his breath caught as she bit her lip, not long and everything would be as it should…
Orange blossom and lonely birdsong wafted from below the balcony, sweet fragrance and refrain intoxicating the tower room, and she could barely wait. Leaves rustled from vines clothing the stone walls, and slender tendrils curled over the balustrade as she led him out into the balmy night.
Her tresses, pale as the midnight moon, cascaded and his fingers entwined as his lips finally touched hers.
Trembling she held him close but he pulled away. “You’re so beautiful…” he whispered. His breath rasped as he moved towards her and she caught him within her arms. This time his kiss was full and urgent, and she returned it with mad fervour and she drew him close.
As he buried himself within her embrace she threw back her head and let out a cry. He sprang away in astonishment as she vanished in a flurry of feathers.
“I needed your kiss,” birdsong echoed, “but only in marriage…”
And before his eyes she was gone. She fluttered her ivory wings and sang out, and the answering call came from the forest below. He stared in disbelief as his bride launched away from the balcony and out into the indigo sky…and she danced through the deepening night as her beau, the blackest of all ravens, met her and her enchantment was gone, vanquished beneath the glistening moonlight.
(297 Words)