The New Cat

My mom loves to tell stories.  I guess I got my love from her and I handed it down to my daughter.  She tells wonderful stories.  They both do.  It's a treasure we don't often hear about or share much anymore.  The fun of storytelling.  It really is fun and it shares the living history of a family.  Who they are, where they came from, why they believe, and most importantly, what you, the individual, is all about.  Yeah, you!  Just look at your parents, siblings, cousins, aunts, uncles, grandparents.  You won't be identical, but there will be an element, a certain idiosyncrasy which identifies you as belonging to this family lineage, this tribe, this kindred.
So, what does all this have to do with stories.  Well, stories are the foundations of our family and can teach us so much about our family's journey through life.  Take for instance:  "The New Cat":

One frosty autumn night my mother was busily baking and cooking dinner,  We lived on the farm in Central New York then, and the night was filled with the promise of a freeze or maybe if we were lucky, SNOW!  Dusk had come and gone, and the darkness filled the void of the sky as the stars and moon were hooded by the coming snowstorm.  The only light came from the farmhouse and the barn, welcoming beacons of warmth and comfort.  Between the two havens, darkness swelled concealing what lay between.

Mom bustled about the well lit kitchen filling the house with the aroma of baking and the sizzle of meat cooking.  She filled a plate of scraps and a bowl with fresh milk, grabbing her sweater, she opened the kitchen door stepped outside and placed the plate and bowl on the small concrete porch.  "Here kitty, kitty! Here kitty, kitty"!  She called.  Out of the darkness came the five farm cats.  Mewing and purring they jumped onto the porch, sauntering to their food.  Mom stroked each cat and was rewarded with a purr and a rubbing of head under her hand.  Just out of range of the kitchen light, she caught the image of another cat and called to it. "Here kitty, kitty!  Come here silly or your food will be gone".  It was small and seemed hesitant, but then came forward rather timidly. Then upon reaching the plate, it found a place and began to eat, warily at first then wholeheartedly.  Mom smiled at this new cat, pats it gently, and giving it the same love and attention she gave to the others.

Going back inside, Mom washes her hands and returns to the tasks at hand.  My father and brother would be up from the barn soon, along with me trotting after them asking all sorts of questions.  My sister was setting the table and helping mom with the evening meal. " When did we get the new black cat"? Mom asks Dawn.
 "What black cat"? Dawn replies.
" The one I was just petting outside", Mom answers.
Dawn shakes her head, "I don't know.  I didn't know we had a black cat".
Mom goes to the kitchen door and glances out.  "It's right there".
Walking over to door, Dawn looks out.  She looks again. Soon, Mom notices that Dawn hasn't moved from window and seems to be shaking.
"What's wrong?  Why are you shaking"?  Mom asks.
Dawn turns around and is shaking with laughter.  She just points out the window.  "Is....is....that....the....black.........cat.....you petted? She finally gets out.
Mom glances out again, "Yes"!
Dawn laughs even harder.  "Mom, that isn't a cat!"
"What are you talking about"?  Mom asks.
"Look"!  Dawn exclaims.

Mom finally looks out the window and stares at the little cat she had been petting and loving.....Yeah, you go it.....  "It's a SKUNK"!  Mom blurts out.  There it was in all it's little glory.  The little black animal with a white stripe down it's back, enjoying a plate of food with the farms cats and relishing a drink of milk.  Mom watched it as it finished it's meal and trotted off back into the darkness.  "Well, I don't know", Mom says.
At that, Dawn cracks up with laughter again and Mom, she joined in laughing about how she welcomed the little skunk into the family and how well it fit in.

Now, the skunk never did come back, or if it did, it would come later in the night. But, the story of how Mom fed and loved a skunk is one I cherish and love to know how Mom, didn't care about who came to dinner.  She would accept anyone, and maybe that's why I am the way I am.  You see, when you begin to look at the story you realize all sorts of things.  First, Mom didn't pay attention to what the animal was, she knew it was hungry and fed it.  Second, notice something really interesting?  The cats didn't react against the skunk.  That's right, they welcomed it into their midst and shared what they had.  Yeah, the farm cats didn't care that it was a skunk and different.  Nope. they could have cared less.  Now, that is something to think about.  We humans, consider ourselves to be so high and mighty; yet, if someone is different from us, we want to get rid of them.  We condemn them, say "they are going to hell", or deny them rights.  I think I would rather be like the farm cats and welcome the different one in.  I know I do my best to be like mom and accept others.  By the way, this is a true story.  Mom really did feed a skunk and pet it one dark night....it's all a part of my family history.  A story to share to my child and her children to come....and to give to you.