The smaller the enclosure, the safer.
Your father built me this house and built you
a cubbyhole above the closet.
A home contains the world that contains it,
snow on stiff bristles, the smell of pine,
the city you have built with blocks.
I sing lullabies to your window;
I am with you.
-A Poem by Patrick Edwards-Daugherty, in praise of animals and humans in harmony
The Unstoppable Ginger, courtesy of our friend and fellow cat-lover John from Hong Kong (an inspirational excerpt with a lesson)
Meet Ginger, the four-year-old blind-since-birth cat whom we adopted as a tiny kitten. He’s always been an interesting (even inspirational) guy. In Ginger’s mind, he’s the general manager (the supreme boss) of our household. He doesn’t jump up on things (because he can’t see where), but he does climb, and with a buddy’s guidance can get all the way up onto boxes that are on top of shelves, just under the ceiling. When descending, he still doesn’t jump, but climbs, usually descending feet first and lowering himself down much like a human would.
Anyhow, Ginger reminds me every day that handicapped isn’t the same as helpless and that it’s always possible to make the best of any situation.