On Destiny ...

Destiny Marie Shireman

Destiny was a rescue.  We adopted her when Stinkerbelle Stanley was 2 years old - as a companion for both my son, Woody, and Stinker.  Woody loved her, but Stinker ... not so much.

When I was a student at UALR, we discovered a little family of cats living on campus.  Destiny's momma was a cute little calico and there were five kittens in all - a couple of gray tabbies, a couple of black kittens, and one tortoise shell calico.  Their den was under the Student Union B Building.

When the kittens were discovered, one of the secretaries on campus contacted me, as she knew I was a cat person.  She asked if I would help in the efforts to establish a feral cat colony.  We petitioned the Chancellor to allow us to start, and maintain the colony.  Unfortunately, the Chancellor was afraid the cats would eat the squirrels - an odd idea, but one he stuck to none the less.  To be honest, the UALR squirrels need some natural control - they are very destructive little buggers.  They gnaw at the corners of trash cans, and get into anything they feel might harbor something good to eat, or fun to play with.

When our efforts to establish the colony failed, we each agreed to adopt a kitten.  A local vet agreed to spay the Momma Cat free of charge.  We originally planned to re-release her on campus, but, one of the group decided to take her home instead (we weren't really sure what the Chancellor would do to her).

We monitored the little family closely.  Once the kittens were old enough to be weened, we planned to trap Mamma Cat and take her to the vet. Then, the next day, as the kittens got hungry and ventured out of their den, we would trap them and they would go to their forever homes.

There was a little area between the building and the bushes where the kittens played every afternoon - safe from the passing students, but still able to enjoy the sunshine outside the den.  

I'm not a fan of male cats, as I mentioned in my earlier blog - they have a tendency to spray.  Sometimes, neutering the kitten will stop this habit, but it's just the luck of the draw.  For that reason, I prefer female felines.  I agreed to adopt the little tortie, for the simple fact that they are predominately female (only 1 in 3000 are male). 

A couple of weeks before "Operation Relocation" began, I would go to Student Union B and stand in the bushes to watch the little ones at play.  After a few visits, I began to talk to Destiny.  She would sit and listen, but she never approached me.  The other kittens would run and hide, but not Destiny.  I thought this was a good omen, that we were bonding.  I would soon find out it was because our little Desi was not very bright.

The big day came, and Momma Cat was trapped and whisked off to the vet's for her surgery.  We waited until the next morning to set traps for the kittens.  One of the girls arrived on campus to set the traps at 7 a.m.  As I was getting ready to leave for class, I got a call at 7:15.

"Bring a box!" I was told - Destiny was the first kitten trapped.  I got to school at 7:45 and took custody of our new little family member.  She was sweet, but very scared.  She didn't mind being held and loved on - which is very unusual for a feral kitten.  When she arrived home that afternoon, she introduced herself to Stinker - and received a swift slap and a hiss for her efforts.  Stinker never did warm up to her - but, she did tolerate her.

Destiny was a pretty good cat.  She was relatively easy to train - but, only because she wasn't smart enough to get into much mischief.  When some one would come to the door, she would run and hide in the cabinets.  But, once our visitor was inside and settled, Destiny would be all over them.  I had to finally teach her that she couldn't get in some one's lap until she first asked permission.  She would sit next to them and meow - it sounded like she was saying, "Now?"  I would explain to our company the procedure - "if you didn't want her in your lap, say, 'Not now.'"  She would repeat the request about every five minutes.  The instant you failed to answer her - she assumed that was permission and she would climb aboard.

Cat Loaf

Destiny was my little chunky monkey - so when she climbed in your lap, her little paws felt like steel tipped stilettos!  But, once in your lap, she would sit for hours, happy as could be.

She and Stinker were quite a contrast - Stinker was long and lean - a beautiful cat.  Then there was little Desi, the chunky little sister - but, still a beautiful little girl.

Now, I've made no secret of the fact that Destiny wasn't the smartest cat.  I think the story that best shows this is the day I introduced her to the laser pointer.  As a planetarium director, I always carried a laser pointer with me.  One day, I was trying to do my physics homework, and Destiny wanted to play.  She sat on the table, and every few minutes, she would reach out and hook my pencil with one paw and pull it away from me.  She was such a sweet little kittie - I could never bring myself to fuss at her - so I would find ways to deal with bad behavior without upsetting her.

After about 30 minutes of wrestling with her for my pencil - I reached over and picked up the laser pointer.  I pointed it at the wall next to the table.  It took a few minutes before she saw the steady red beam - but once she did - she took off after it.  I ran the laser all around the living room and dining room and she chased it as fast as her little fat body would carry her.  It was always fun to watch Destiny run - her belly fat (what we affectionately referred to as her "fat pads") would swing back and forth. 

After a few minutes, she flopped down on the floor, exhausted.  I returned to my homework, and after a while, I realized she was no longer flopped on the rug.  She returned to the wall where the spot first appeared - and there she stayed ... for days.  Leaving only to eat and use her box. 

I tried to show her where the laser came from, but she didn't get it!  I would point the laser at the floor to try and redirect her attention - but, she didn't understand.  So, I let her stand in the dining room and guard us against the return of the evil red light.  Eventually, she realized we were all safe from the red alien dot and wandered away from her post.

Aww, I can't reach my toy.

And so, our little family settled into life - Woody, Stinkerbelle, Destiny, and I.  The girls, as I called them, had a grudging peace, but, on occasion, I would catch them sleeping close to each other - not touching, but close.  When they passed in the hall way - it always ended with Destiny getting tapped by Stinker.

As they got older, Destiny would aggravate Stinker on purpose - she would get as close she dared, then sit blinking as she waited for the inevitable slap.  Eventually, Destiny learned to use this to gain access to the best sleeping spots, or toys.  And Stinker, even though she was the alpha cat, would always cede the disputed territory.  Now, I know you are thinking, that doesn't sound like the actions of a stupid cat - but, it took her 12 years to figure this out.  So, yes, Destiny was a slow learner!

She did learn a couple of tricks, though.  She would "bonk" on command.  When loving on you, she would butt heads, an action cats use to scent mark.  After about 10 years, and hearing "bonk" millions of times, you could ask her to give you a bonk - and she would oblige.  But, her sweetest trick was "pet Mama on the face."  While loving on me, she would invariably take her little paw and stroke the side of my face.  I repeated the command "pet Mama on the face," and when the words didn't prompt her, I would stroke her on the head saying, "Mama pet Desi" then dropping my hand to my lap, I would say "Desi pet Mama."  It took a while, but she finally learned.

Though she wasn't smart, Destiny was a sweet, loving little cat.  She may have taken a back seat to Stinker, but she was never deprived of love and affection (or food).  She loved us, and we gladly repaid that undying love to her.  She would sit for hours,  purring as we stroked and brushed her coarse black and brown fur.  She was a talker, though.  She would carry on conversations with us over anything - food, fresh water, a new toy, and that cat thing - asking us why we wanted to let the water get all over us at bath time.  She loved to chatter at birds outside the window, and wasn't real sure what to think of the squirrels.  She wasn't sure if they were friend or foe - so she would chatter, and meow at them for hours on end.

On the day Stinker died, I was not at home, something I will regret the rest of my life.  Woody and his girlfriend arrived home to find Stinker on my bed where she had curled up on my pillow to sleep and never woke.  But, Destiny was no where to be found.  It took the kids a while to coax her out of her hiding spot.  She was in a cabinet, devastated by the passing of her big sister.

In the days and weeks to follow, she grieved Stinker's passing.  She would walk around the house, calling for her sister.  When Stinker didn't answer, Destiny would sit and cry - a low, mournful, wailing call.

This broke my heart - not only for Stinker's passing, but for Destiny's grief.  Each time she would start, I would cry along with her.  I tried comforting her, but to no avail.  I would put her in my lap and brush her, talking softly to her, but this did nothing to ease her grief.

I found myself in a bad situation in life.  I was laid off, and couldn't find work.  I made the difficult decision to return to my home town and move in with a friend.  Not knowing what the future held for me, I was unsure what to do for Destiny.  A friend of a friend was looking for a cat of her own.  Her daughter had a colony of outdoor cats, but Ms. Sara wanted her own house cat - a fuzzball to spend time sitting in her lap, keeping her company.

I made the difficult decision to re-home Destiny.  I felt it was best for us both, we needed a clean slate.  When Destiny arrived at her new home for the first time, she stayed in the truck while Mickey went to get Ms. Sara.  When her new Mama approached the truck, Destiny sat up on her hind legs and reached for Ms. Sara - as if she had been waiting for this moment.

They became fast friends, and for once, Destiny ruled her roost.  She bossed the other cats, as well as Ms. Sara's daughter - like the fussy old woman she was.  Destiny's new Mama had to put a TV in her bedroom, because Destiny would loudly decide when it was bedtime, and Ms. Sara didn't want to miss the end of her favorite shows!  They had their routine, and they loved each other's company. 

Then one day, Destiny climbed in Ms. Sara's lap and curled up.  Sara suddenly realized Desi hadn't moved in about an hour.  It was then she discovered that little Destiny had quietly slipped away in her sleep.
 
I am so grateful that our sweet, loving little Destiny Marie had such a long happy life - with two Mamas, and two happy families that loved and adored her.  She lived to the ripe old age of 15, pretty good for a cat. 

Destiny Marie

It was tough hearing the news about her passing, I felt as if I lost her twice, and in a way I did.  My little Destiny Marie passed away and I wasn't there for her, but she was not alone, she was safe and warm in Ms. Sara's loving embrace.  

Goodbye, my chunky monkey, you were a bright spot in my life and I will never forget you.  May you rest in peace, little one.