Welcome to Street Prophets Coffee Hour, the place where politics meets up with religion, nature, science, art, and life. Come in, have a cuppa and a cookie (or three!) and join us.
Often on Thursdays Michelewln would post recipes or her original artwork. I know we’ll be glad when she can return and carry on. She’s been waiting on her computer, which has been packed, to be set up for internet again.
C’mon. Isn’t she adorable?
Taffy showed up as a stray at a friend’s house. Norma lives near Swope Park, and if you know Kansas City at all, you know Swope Park is a huge tract of land running from just south of midtown all the way to the far south reaches of the city limits. Sort of like Central Park. Inside its boundaries are a large zoo and an enormous outdoor theater. (Sometimes during a concert or summer stage play, you’ll hear the lions roaring.) There are many picnic areas, and in years long gone, there was a city swimming pool. But much of the grounds are just wooded.
And in the same way people drop off unwanted pets in my farming area, people abandon cats and dogs in Swope Park. The lucky ones find their way to Norma’s house, where we TNR any feral cats and trap and try to rehome friendly ones. Taffy was one of the friendly ones.
But Norma is quite elderly at 90. About 13 years ago, she was hospitalized for an extended period, and a relative that she raised and who calls himself her son was determined to have Taffy put down. He’s a deputy sheriff, with every stereotype that implies, and Taffy was a still-young torti with a tortitude—and she was mouthy. Not that she talks a lot, just normal cat talk, but she would put her mouth on your hand if you were doing something she didn’t like. You know, like a torti. And no 8 pound cat was going to get the best of him!
Norma was crying in her hospital bed, feeling helpless, and so I gave in. Yes, I took the three pets in danger, Taffy and the chihuahua Coco and the chiweenie Noche. The dogs have left me in the last few years, but Taffy remains. She sleeps on top of me, and when I was knitting she slept on my lap. Now that I spend the days writing stories and novels, Taffy has had to give up the lap, but she parks herself on top of the computer tower (a good place) or on the window sill (an even better place) or on the desk in front of the monitor (not as good a place).
Yes, she’s still mouthy, but not often, and an 8 pound cat will always get the better of me.
