Читать книгу Every Cat Has A Story: True Stories Exploring the Spiritual Connection of Felines with Their Beloved Owners - Jasmine Kinnear - Страница 8

Preface

We each have our own perception of the most beautiful species that grace God’s earth. From my perspective even as a child, the most elegant of all his creations has remained the cat. My fascination with them began in early childhood and has developed into a lifetime love affair; I see an exquisite beauty in all felines whether born moggie and domestic or purebred with an impressive pedigree.

After living with countless felines during my breeding career there is a distinct possibility that I may have taken my passion to an extreme. Such devotion has, for example, blessed me with an ability to connect to the source creating a feline’s anxiety within their home. My purpose is to serve as a verbal bridge of understanding between an owner and their beloved cat when problems occur. I literally serve as the cat’s voice, informing the owner of the unknown source creating the behavioural problem. Success is often determined when the owner is willing to implement the changes I have suggested as their feline will respond in kind. When an owner has become desperate for a solution to a long-term problem, the changes in the feline's behaviour have literally saved the cat’s life.

A dear friend and colleague confided that possibly my success has been due to my unique approach with felines. She was often with me during feline consultations and has provided valuable feedback after reading my books. She believes that after 25 years of cohabitating with hundreds of cats I have apparently developed an ability of thinking just like a cat.

I’m not sure exactly when my passion for felines began as my father never permitted a kitten in our home. In denying himself the pleasure of loving a cat he didn’t realize until much later in his life exactly how much he’d missed. However as a child I was forced to accept that our home would never be blessed with a cat as his sole preference remained a devotion for dogs. He thought cats to be sneaky and untrustworthy; yet before his death he also grew to appreciate their beauty.

Some people say that cats are sneaky, evil, and cruel. True, and they have many other fine qualities as well.- Missy Dizick

On the special Christmas when I announced my first and only pregnancy he finally came to my apartment for turkey dinner. My father was a paraplegic and travelling was painfully difficult for him, however this was now a special occasion. He’d heard me speak of my two precious males for many years and upon first meeting, he surprised me by warmly bonding with them.

Dustin, my very first cat, had been rescued when five weeks old from within the fields of a local prison by an inmate. Thomas, a sweet tabby male, I’d personally rescued six months later during a snowstorm. The boys bonded and were well matched with Thomas becoming Dustin’s devoted companion.

Thomas had been given my father’s middle name and never left my Dad’s lap the entire evening. Whether it was Thomas’ affectionate nature or possibly being his namesake my Dad appeared quite pleased by his attention. My father made a comment at the time that he’d doubted anyone else would ever carry his name. Although my father was seldom wrong, in this particular instance I had been saving a surprise for him. He lived just long enough to be told the name of his newly born grandson. Although fate may have prevented him enough time to hold my baby, it is with great pride that my son bears the name of Mark Donald.

How profound then that I feel compelled to dedicate this book of feline love stories to my father’s memory. I believe that such an awareness would provide him with the greatest pleasure and he would be quite pleased. Only recently has my mother mentioned that when I was a child she would often discover small saucers left under my bed for my latest feline guest. She would silently remove them and say nothing to my Dad, somehow sensing the importance of my feline connections. My darling father was never aware of the many pregnant queens that I snuck through my bedroom window as a young child. During the raging winter storms in Greenfield Park, Quebec, my bedroom became a pregnant queen’s haven; the dye was cast, my cat breeding career had begun.

Jasmine, age 2

A cat stretches from one end of my childhood to the other.- Blaga Dimitrova