Our family has shifted and grown in many ways through the years, adding and subtracting members as time passes, but the nuclear on-site family now consists of two adult humans and three adult kitties: Marjorie “Baby Cat” (@MarjieCat); Durga Marie Tally; and Chewbacca Penelope.

We have suffered heartbreaking losses…most recently our beloved Midnight Kitty, who passed away suddenly in March of 2020, just as we were entering the first shut-down phase of the pandemic here in Maine; and my beloved equine friend, Lacey, in 2021.  And we have welcomed new members…most recently, Durga Marie Tally Graychase, an injured stray who had run away from home and found sanctuary here with me in 2022, and Chewbacca Penelope (aka “Poodle” or “Chew-Chew”), who I found screaming in my garden shed at three weeks old in September of 2016.

Durga is our youngest. She is agile, friendly, and street smart. She is very active, and also loves to lounge in front of the fire. She is six years old in 2024.

Chewbacca turned 8 in August of 2024. I bottle-fed her until she was able to take solid food (KMR or goat’s milk are best; don’t feed a baby mammal cow’s milk unless she is a cow!), and she has always been a vibrant, curious, active, and fluffy girl. She and Midnight were very close, and the loss of his grooming, playing, rough-housing, and physical companionship has been very hard for her (and for me, as well).

Marjie (aka “Baby Cat”) was our youngest until Chewbacca arrived. Now she’s our eldest. I still think of her as a baby, but she’s properly middle-aged now! She came to our family eight years ago, when I dropped by our vet’s to pick up some special food for Midnight and Jasper (who we lost in 2015 and who I still miss every single day; Jasper was the only kitty who liked to sleep with me), and there in the waiting room was a whole family of kittens and their skinny little mama cat. Marjie’s mama cat had given birth in a woodpile and her brood had found its way to our wonderful veterinarian’s office in search of forever homes. (At the time, we were seeing Dr. Karen Pooler at Kindred Spirits in Orrington. Dr. Pooler (who we love soooo much!) now has a mobile practice, Island Veterinary Care specializing in home-based care and euthanasia in Hancock County (Maine), and for logistical and financial reasons, we transitioned to Bucksport Veterinary Hospital, where we have been very happy with the compassionate, affordable, and professional care.)

We (Peter and I, at the time) were not looking to adopt another cat. In fact, our home was very tense at the time, because we had introduced a new kitty (Midnight) into Jasper’s world about six months earlier and he was violently opposed. The conflict was very stressful for all of us and Midnight was very anxious. He spent a lot of time hiding behind the toilet and scaring guests to our bathroom by leaping out from behind the toilet and into their unsuspecting laps! We had been working hard to solve the problems between the cats, and we’d made only minor progress.

Lots of reasonable arguments could be made against adding a third cat into the equation. Also, we always adopt older cats, because they have a harder time finding homes. But something about those kittens called to me. And I immediately tuned right in to Marjorie who was known then as, “the grey female.” I left the vet, got about 15 minutes up the road when my heart just opened up and Marjorie blazed in like a beacon from a lighthouse. I heard her calling to me, I knew her name, and I knew she was absolutely what our family needed.

I phoned Peter and he felt the same feeling, as I told him about it. Against all reason, he also trusted it was the right thing to do. I called the vet and went back to collect Marjorie.

Our home immediately became peaceful. Midnight, it turns out, was a caring nurturer. The moment Marjorie entered our lives, he was relaxed, brave, and purposeful. If ever a neutered male were meant to be a mom, it was Midnight. With Baby, Midnight was happy, and because of that, he acted less like prey, and Jasper stopped tormenting him quite so much. Midnight stopped hiding in the bathroom–or anywhere else. He freely slept in sunbeams or on the back of the couch. He lounged in front of the fire and played with and groomed Marjie, which she loved.

If Jasper played too rough with Baby, which did happen sometimes because Jasper was a bit of a lummox, bless his heart, Midnight would race to her rescue. He would come tearing out from wherever he was resting and defend her until Jazzy backed off, which tended to happen very quickly. It was a remarkable sight to see this mild-mannered guy, who was so timid and fearful when he was on his own, become a brave and fearless protector. Midnight was always going to be okay. He just needed Marjorie to bring out his strongest, fullest, most loving self.  I’m so glad we found her.

When Chewbacca came along, Midnight again took on his most comfortable, happiest role of “nanny,” and friend to her. His sudden passing was a blow to all of us and we miss him dearly.

We also lost our kitty Franklin in June of 2019. Frank was seven years old. He was my heart and soul, the only one among my recent five kitties who loved to snuggle and be held. Frank was big–he would’ve been a Great Dane or some other mastiff if he were a dog–and holding him took up my whole lap, and then some! We began every single day together, with some cradling and love. Frank was also special because he was born to a feral female who made her home on my neighbor’s property. He was one of three male kittens in her first litter, and I spent a whole year trying to convince him to come to me, so I could find him a home. He and his siblings would gambol in my dooryard, chasing leaves in the fall. When it began to snow, he would come to me and chase the little snowballs I made when I was shoveling. In warm weather, he would peek out at me from the safety of my blackberry patch. And then, when he came into adulthood, he would sit on top of the woodpile outside my kitchen window and look in at me.

Every time I saw him, I would reach out using animal communication and send the simple expression, “Friend.” “Friend,” I would say, over and over, lovingly and clearly, “Friend.”

And then one day, I opened my door and he walked in. Friend. And he never left (or asked to leave).

I got him neutered, examined, treated for fleas and parasites, and then I set about finding him a home. But within 24 hours of beginning my search, I realized…he was my home, and I was his. The word I was really sending was not friend, it was “home.” And so it was, that Franklin became cat number four (in a home that really only intended to have two!), and he lived and was loved for six years here; first with me and Peter, then me and Peter and Shannon, then me and Shannon, and then…just me.

I miss him ever so much–so much that I cry, my heart feels constricted, it’s hard to breathe. I miss his physical self. Especially during a pandemic, when a little love and affection would go a long way.

But several things give me peace. First: I count my blessings. I savored Frank and took the very best care of him for all of his years with me, and this is a comfort. Second: I am a medium! So I can feel and see and speak with Franklin whenever I want. And third: Marjorie is so much happier! She is a very sensitive creature and she has relaxed more into herself as our cat colony has dwindled. So, as much as I want another kitty (hopefully a snuggly one for me and a playful one for Chewbacca!), my pledge for now, is that Marjie (who you can follow on Instagram @Marjiecat) gets to have some time where the cat colony only includes herself and one other.

Peace, fellow mammals. As we ebb and flow through the losses and changes, may we each take comfort in knowing that while they were here, we gave our companion animals the fullest, best, most intuitive, respectful, loving, and consistently good care. (And may we find an animal medium when we need one, if this would help our hearts.)

Peace, fellow mammals. Peace.