A Cat Named Makita

By Caroline

I am sometimes misunderstood, but not when it comes to my love for all cats. This story is about a cat named Makita (Kita for term of Endearment).

Kita was eight weeks old when she came into my life. The most inquisitive fluffball with blue eyes and a good, long nose for a blue point Himmie (Himalayan) (I do not believe in breeding Persians with that type that is so standard in the breed).

I did not breed for show, but for a sweet, well-mannered, healthy cat, without the inbreeding that seems so inherent in the cat breeders standards for Persians. My Kita was a purrsian blue-point. I adopted a male with the typical confirmation for the breed. His name was Yeti. He used to lurk behind corners, waiting for Kita to approach. She ended up having one litter, two kittens, before I had him neutered. I helped her while she was giving birth, as she looked to me, frightened as to what was happening, I ran and got a strong spool of thread and tied off the cords. She took over from there with each in turn, licking off the sac and ingesting it for nourishment; then I tied off the second, as she gave birth to the sibling, the second kitten. After that, it was good and she took over like a confident mother cat.

Kita and I, she was my buddha kitty, by the way–always watchful, serene and inquisitive, never so much as harming a moth. My daughter was still in a tiny carseat when I first carried her and Kita, in her carrier, to the veterinarian, Dr. Becky Arnold. That was twenty yrs ago.

Madeline is now twenty-one, and the best daughter any mother could ask for. Kita, my buddha kitty, passed away at age fourteen. She died in my arms. She was buried in my best basket, and given a special stone above where I dug her grave and put her in to her final resting place. The stone is engraved with, “My little Makita. I love you with all my heart. Rest gently, little one.”

It makes the tears roll, but they are grateful, happy, sad tears.

To all of you out there, know that I had a very difficult time with watching that video tonight on the page Michael put up for the poor, abused Tiger [what is the tiger’s name?] That tiger needs to be rescued immediately by several countries working together. I cry for that poor, dear tiger that never deserved to be treated so.

Caroline

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A Cat Named Makita — 4 Comments

  1. Hi Caroline. Your story is very sweet and tender. Thanks for sharing. If you want to go back to making comments that is OK (I can unlock things) provided you keep them a little bit quieter if you know what I mean. Sorry to say that. Just tell me.

    • Michael, you are a true gem of a human being. And your request, respectfully noted. Please do reinstate me?
      An endearing, heartfelt eye to both of you. Thank you for allowing me to rejoin the civil colony.

  2. Kita sounds as if she was beautiful and special and I love the words you etched on her stone
    ‘My little Makita. I love you with all my heart. Rest gently, little one’
    Do you have a photo of her?
    It’s heartbreaking to lose a cat and we never forget them.
    I couldn’t watch the video of the tiger, the still picture of her cowed down upset me enough and I wish we could do something to stop all the abuse of cats worldwide but we can only do so much and it’s never enough.
    Take care, I think we all know how emotions about it all can overwhelm you.

    • Ruth, it has taken me this long to be able to functionally deal with that video. Thank you for understanding, for you, it seems, have suffered as much as any poor, lonely, vulnerable cat, newborn or old.

      My field in my military service was as cryptographer, basically, in Mandarin. So, after having so many friends under Mao Tse Tung, back then, and IN Tiennanmen Square, and being an ailurophile, I had a very difficult time steeling myself. to watch it. When I intially read the comments [which was the easier of the two], I thought–having drank not wine but hard liquor to get numb–and I still couldn’t bear to watch it every seeing that still presented from the video–I though that the comments were directed at me and my love for my Zhonguo friends who had migrated here to go to school, sent by their parents, grandparents, only expected to return their to respect their elders…

      I don’t know what to say about that video. It breaks my heart.

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