Shadow, the very unofficial hospice cat, has emerged out of nowhere again. Pitch-black with no markings at all, and huge emerald green eyes. No one knows where he comes from or when he will come. He just appears when he pleases, knowing that when he does he will be made a huge fuss of by everyone who meets him. He's large, clearly looked after by someone, someone who probably has no idea of the humanitarian (or feline-tarian?) missions he goes on throughout the day. (p. 19)
You know where you are with a cat. Cats don't believe in God either, now I come to think of it. It's a good rule of life, I think, not to take anything seriously that a cat doesn't. (p. 89)
"He [Mikey] likes to pretend he's tough, but he loves it when Ninja is here at bedtime. I think he lets Ninja sleep on his pillow to protect him from zombies," she says. "I wonder whose cat he is." ... "He's my cat," I confess, and Sarah laughs, and then bites her lip when she sees my deadpan expression. "Seriously? What, you're not joking?" (p. 196)
She opens the door to where my lost mother is sleeping. And the strangest thing happens. Jake, my cat, looks up as I enter the room and gets off the bed and trots toward me. I bend down and scoop him up into my arms, heartened and confused at the same moment. How can Jake be here? "That's Shadow," Stella whispers, stroking his head. "He visits us all the time." I want to tell her that this is not Shadow, or Ninja, but Jake, strange, mysterious Jake. (p.296)
This novel is not about the cat, but the cat is what I enjoyed most about the book. The cat makes his own friends, goes where he's needed, and seems to do more good for the people around him than most of us humans do. I found the picture of the green-eyed black cat at a couple of places online. I think Shadow-Ninja-Jake must look like this.
1 comment:
Animals really do have a strong impact on us. They comfort us when we are scared or sad and bring us joy as well. What would we do without them!
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