The Abbottsford Cats

About "The Abbottsford Cats"

2011-11-26T13:39:00.011-06:00

The Abbottsford Cats is an illustrated fantasy in three books - "The Tale of Jelenti", "The Sphere of Remel" and "The Rainbow Falls". It is the story of a colony of feral cats who learn to live their lives with humans while developing their fabulous unique senses.

It is the story of a cruel man and how the Abbottsford Cats convince that man that cruelty just isn't welcome on Abbottsford Road.

It is a story of an old gypsy woman who has lived her life on this earth caring for her felines with magic and wits, but, has yet to fulfill her destiny. The Abbottsford Cats, with a special visitor, create an extraordinary bond with the gypsy who has healed them. Through this bond they all help her find the way to overcome the curse.

Finally, it is a love story between two decent people who go out of their way to help the animals and humans in their lives.

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"The Abbottsford Cats"
Book 1: "The Tale of Jelenti"
Book 2: :The Sphere of Remel"
Book 3 "The Rainbow Falls"

The Abbottsford Cats

Kiralyno - The Warrior Queen
Ember - The Leader
Delikatny - The Healer
Kemeny - The Wise One
Zereto - The Beautiful One
Cica - The Wild One
Bravo - The Warrior Prince

The Spirit Cats
Guiden - The StarKitty Guide
Kecses - A Spirit Cat & Healer

The Humans
Brett Jelenti - A Cruel Man
Darla Rose - The Sensitive
Magikys Cignay - The Gypsy Queen
Sam Guest - The Teacher
Kaley Cigani - The Gypsy's Daughter

"Kecses' Healing" DigitalArt by Kim Yvonne Cady

The Golden Orb

2011-07-08T15:51:00.006-05:00

When Magikys Cigany saw the orb, she had no words. It was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. She asked the shop man in Romania to tell her a little bit about it. His name was Guaril and his black hair was as long as hers tied back in a thick ponytail. He loved sitting on his three legged stool talking to beautiful women. Magikys truly fit that bill. At that time, her dark auburn hair flowed down her back untamed. Her hazel eyes changed colors with her moods. Today Guaril caught her in a fine mood for listening at length to the history of a most unusual orb.

It was a crystal ball, Guaril explained, not just an orb. Of course, the obvious beauty of the orb was what caught the eye. It was crystal flecked with gold inside. It was made especially for one pedestal - the pedestal of Bastet, the Egyptian cat goddess. The pedestal itself was made of pure platinum. The eyes of the cats were tiny emeralds and their collars were decorated with the finest rubies and diamonds.

Magikys interrupted for a moment to ask how such a priceless object could be on display in such a humble shop. Wasn't Guaril afraid it would be stolen? Thieves were everywhere in his little village. Tourists, passersby, and the transient peoples that came through were not all rich.

Guaril explained. As a crystal ball, the orb made its own magic and most people in his parts were leery of stealing something that contained such magic. Magic, like a cat, chose who could own it. Many tourists had offered him much to possess the orb, which Guaril was more than happy to sell at the right price. Yet. when they attempted to pack it up, the orb would become too heavy, too hot, too slippery or bounce away and hide. There was little he could do but give the money back!

Magikys eyed the young man warily and asked what sort of elixir he used to cause these manifestations. He took great offense at her insinuation and offered to show her the orb's capabilities. She drew closer to the him.

His hands covered the orb but did not touch it. He asked a question, "Oh Golden Orb of the Carpathians; please answer a question for your humble servant, Guaril, will I meet a beautiful woman today?"

Magikys smiled and laughed. "Guaril let me see its magic not the obvious!" Guaril attempted to steal a kiss. Magikys just inched her chair back and smiled. "THE MAGIC!" she demanded.

All of a sudden the orb began to glow. Guaril practically dropped it where he sat. He jumped up so fast his stool fell backwards. The orb glowed with a golden light and turned ever so slowly.

"Beautiful lady, I do believe you have found the magic!"

Magikys watched as the orb turned and then stopped. She slid closer and looked deep within it. She saw her family. Not her old grandfather and grandmother, but a young man and woman. They were in a gypsy camp. The woman began to scream and the man drew a knife. Then she saw shadows and a smaller orb within the orb. It melded into the larger orb and the glow ceased.

"What did you see?" Guaril asked still in a bit of shock.

Magikys returned his query with a question. She asked where the orb was from. Guaril explained it had been stolen from a gypsy tribe just before the World War II. It had passed through many hands since. He won the orb in a game of cards and had been seeking the rightful owner ever since. Guaril was a peddler and Magikys imagined for Guaril the rightful owner would also have the right price.

"I will buy this".

Guaril could not hide his delight "It appears you are the rightful owner, beautiful lady. But, tell me what did you see?"

Magikys rose from her chair and just shrugged, "My family."

Guaril and the gypsy queen came to terms and Magikys packed the orb in a lovely cotton shawl that Guaril gave her for being "so beautiful".

She smiled again, "I may see you again in the orb, my friend!"

Guaril stopped smiling. He was really not that fond of magic. "I would hope to see you instead in the flesh, my lady!" She laughed.

Magikys went to her hotel room and darkened the room. The orb glowed as soon as she placed it on the dresser. That evening she saw much of her past, asked many questions, and drank much wine. There was no doubt that this magic was magic she was destined to find. Now, she must learn how to tame it and work with it for the purposes she proposed - to learn secrets of the past and ways of the future, and most of all - to help heal those too weak to help themselves, the animals she loved who called to her in her dreams. Before, she was unable to do much, but with this orb, so much more would be possible. She would not fail it.

The Code of the Spirit Cat

2011-07-02T15:16:00.013-05:00

The Code of the Spirit Cat

Always protect those who are weaker in the colony.

Listen before reply; knowledge is power.

When carrying out the task, take the hardest path; for in the sacrifice comes the learning.

Accept a challenge and see it through; you will be liberated.

Prudence in attack is required.

Protect your human from danger at all costs.

Humility is good; but never under estimate your powers.

Always keep your grooming up no matter how bad you feel.

Give thanks to the Spirit everyday in every way.

Wait at the Rainbow Bridge for your companion’s arrival to continue the journey.

Kaley Cigany - The Gypsy's Daughter

2011-07-01T23:37:00.003-05:00

Kaley Cigany was born into a family immersed in magic. She had purposefully kept herself grounded. Her grandfather was a full-blooded Roma gypsy and her mother was his protegee. Her father was nowhere to be found. He simply became a legend. According to Magikys, her mother, he was a beautiful man who wanted a child. Magikys also wanted a child. They had a beautiful child together.

Her father had obligations that took him far from the family. Although he wrote many letters, one day the letters stopped. Magikys and her lover never married, but, she felt no embarrassment. It was a love affair. Kaley was the love child that blossomed from a beautiful moment.

Kaley knew she could never have been loved more than she was by Magikys. She told others about her father with pride. Sometimes she would embellish, leading people to believe he was an important scientist or diplomat on a mission. But, when she reached her 20s, she left the stories behind. She simply would say she had little knowledge of her father, but, he had been a very important man.

Yet, the magic remained. Her mother, Maggie, as most called her, was a gypsy. She had studied deeply with Kaley’s grandfather. She had travelled throughout Europe, India and the Middle East and came back to decorate her house with totems, orbs, and items that could not be adequately described. She did things differently.

Kaley didn’t mind. She simply would not be drawn into the strange world that her mother embraced. She knew there was something to it, yet, she felt it was a private world; a world that she could not fully understand.

Maggie let Kaley grow up as she wished. Kaley wished to be a ballerina. It was to be. Kaley grew up beautiful and the perfect build for a dancer. She was delicate and had the tenacity to work at what she wanted. She was not gifted, but, she was good enough to join the top troupe in the city. She also became adept at many forms of dance. Jazz, Latin, and Middle Eastern music was constantly blaring from Kaley’s very large room which she had converted into a studio.

When she was 17, she went on a tour with the dance troupe and returned to her own apartment. For Maggie it was an adjustment, but, she managed. Kaley was headstrong but compassionate. She would never leave Maggie for too long without a phone call.

So the magic went to Kaley’s feet, sense of balance, and rhythm. Eventually, she chose to teach dance knowing she would never make a top dancer. With Maggie’s blessing and considerable amount of investment, Kaley developed a program dedicated to teaching inner city children the basis of great dancing. Her troupe, Rollick, became locally famous for its brilliant programs which incorporated many forms of world dance with a strong basis in a classical form of ballet. Kaley became a local star.

Maggie could not have been prouder of her daughter. She had hoped Kaley would’ve wanted to know more of her heritage, but, she bided her time. She knew that would happen eventually. For now, she basked in the pride of a mother whose daughter had done well.

Kaley was very happy, but, when Maggie began failing in health, things began to change. It appeared Kaley was going to learn much more about her magical family much earlier than she had hoped to. Luckily, though, it would come at the perfect time – and as Kaley knew, timing was everything.

Darla Rose - The Sensitive

2011-07-01T16:11:00.004-05:00

Darla Rose had a rough time growing up. She looked like your average 12 year old , and enjoyed most of the things a 12 year old would enjoy. Yet, she had a terrible time relating to many of the other things 12 year old girls these days seemed to enjoy.

She loved “Finding Nemo”, crystal jewelry, makeup, and boys. She didn’t much like cigarettes, alcohol and drugs. She was a strange kid brought up in a rough neighborhood, where those things were the norm. Turning them down made her seem strange and a bit too straight for that area of town.

She was an average student and excelled at art. Her teachers would ‘ooooo’ and ‘aahhh’ when she threw something “different” together for an assignment. Her real ‘art’ was hidden in her drawing tablet. She would draw animals, trees, the homeless, her street… she loved recording life. Every drawing she drew was distinctly a “Darla Rose” creation. She filled them all with a sensitivity that belied her age and, won the tough guys’ respect enough to leave her alone.

Her mother was a good mother. Her father had left when Darla was three years old. He sent a present to her on every birthday. It was always a piece of jewelry that contained an opal (her birthstone) and a card. “I love you, Darla” it said, “your Dad”.

It was OK. Not many kids she knew in this part of town even got that much from their fathers. Her mother picked up work where she could. She took temporary labor jobs more than anything. One day her mother came home and just sat down, and told Darla she was too exhausted d to go to work anymore. Given that her mom was only 34, they both worried about her health. Darla begged her to go to the doctor. Her mom would not, due to money. Finally, Darla found a clinic, and her mom went to it. She was diagnosed with lymphoma.

Although her mom fought hard, she couldn't overcome the cancer. She died three months before Darla's birthday. They made arrangements with her Uncle, Brett, to take care of her after her mom's death. He was Darla's only relative. Her mom made a quiet agreement with Brett regarding what life insurance she had. It was his if he made sure Darla would finish school and have a roof over her head until she was eighteen. When money was on the table, Brett listened. He agreed.

Darla knew Brett, as they all did. He was handsome and charming, but, he had a mean temper and drank. Darla dreamt deep dreams of her mom when she passed. She dreamt of her worrying about Darla even after her death. So Darla decided to do the best she could and work things out with her Uncle, even though she didn't trust him. Brett agreed to rent a room to Darla in his new apartment. The money in the life insurance policy would keep a roof over their heads until Brett started making some steady money. Her mom also made Brett promise not to drink in front of Darla. He swore he wouldn't.

Then he did something she could never forgive to an animal she loved. Yet, at her age, she had no choice but to stay with him.

She started drawing obsessively, mostly, cats. It was an amazing place where they had moved. Abbottsford Road was filled with cats. Drawing them was quite a change from walking down the street she used to live on trying to avoid the drug dealers. She knew in her way, too, that she would get beyond her current prison and Brett would face his "karma". The only thing she didn’t know is that another sensitive lived next to her. Soon she would meet her counterpart, Magikys Cigany, and Darla would enter another world… one that she would readily embrace...

Sam Guest - The Teacher

2011-06-27T17:27:00.002-05:00

Sam Guest moved to Beau Fleur from Colorado. As an “air force brat”, he actually moved from the West multiple times. At nineteen, on his own, he chose a different path from his parents. He began the pursuit of his lifelong dream to teach. One of the best teacher’s colleges in the US was in Beau Fleur, so Sam followed his dream and enrolled. After getting his degree, he decided to stay in Beau Fleur and found a perfect bachelor’s cottage house on Abbottsford Road. It was right down the street from the campus where he began as an instructor.

Sam always had a conscience. He always felt sympathetic to other people’s troubles. He also had a great love of nature and animals which, he believed, was inherited from his mother who was a nature photographer. So once moved in, he took note of the preponderance of cats! There were tortiseshells, ruddy reds, blues, goldens, blacks and whites. They were small, tall, old and young; curly eared, straight eared, wide and thin. It certainly appeared as though they ran things!

One day, Sam met one of his more interesting neighbors, Magikys Cigany, who happened to live kitty-corner from him. Maggie, as she was called by most in the neighborhood, was the resident “cat lady”. Yet, by no means as ordinary cat lady. She was very friendly and introduced a few of the tamer cats to Sam by name.

He began watching the antics of the Abbottsford Road cats in the evening when he sat on his porch with a glass of wine; or in the morning with his first cup of coffee. He found it was both relaxing and enjoyable to watch the crews comings and goings. One morning, Maggie stopped over to join him for coffee. He asked the inevitable question: why didn’t the cats smell as bad as some neighborhood cats?

Maggie started talking and Sam was captivated. She shared coffee and tea throughout that lovely summer Saturday, and explained the problems feral cats face. She explained to Sam how a program called Trap, Neuter and Release, was taking the country by storm to help quell the overpopulation of the well-meaning cat.

Sam learned about the local TNR group that would go out and literally trap feral cats; take the cat to a sterile clinic and have them neutered or spayed, vetted & ear-tipped. The ear-tipping, in Maggie’s words, was “like a wink that said I’m feral, I’m free and I’m vetted” to the public.

He became intrigued and asked Maggie if he could accompany her on a TNR outing. There was no hesitation on her part. A new recruit!

For Sam, whose closest brush with wildlife lately were the young students he taught, it was great fun. He became that recruit Maggie had hoped for. He learned everything about TNR, joined the trapping sessions, contributed to the cause and felt good about it. He even started helping Maggie with the local Abbottsford colony. As he learned about the “core” group, as Maggie called the seven cats that seemed the oldest and most in control of the colony, he started a carpentry project and built much needed winter-proofed cat housing for the colonies survival and comfort through Beau Fleur’s frigid winters.

Sam was hooked, by Abbottsford Road, the neighbors. and the cats. He was a teacher in more ways than one. Soon, Sam would find out just how much he meant to the Abbottsford colony and how much they cared for him. Sam was part of the destiny that would place him in both romance and danger. Deep inside, he knew something was afoot … and, truthfully, he couldn’t wait!

Kemeny and the Rainbow Tree

2011-06-23T12:59:00.006-05:00

A Backstory Tale

There are tales throughout the world about the Rainbow Bridge. This is the celestial highway that allows those humans who've had special bonds with other critters of the earth to join in eternity. When a human or animal passes from this life to the next, they walk the Rainbow Bridge. For those who have cared for cats, dogs, horses, or any of the menagerie of life on earth, once they leave this realm, legend has it that they walk the Bridge and on the other side will be all the critters they loved and cared for waiting for them.

Of course, it's common knowledge that a rainbow's end is hard to fathom and much harder to find! The Abbottsford neighborhood in the city of BeauFleur is a place of age and history and, for those who look hard enough, a rainbow's end/beginning is right around the corner.

This rainbow's end/beginning is not an ordinary rainbow's end/beginning. It is the end and beginning of the Rainbow Bridge. The light-filled highway that leads to the world of the heart actually exists on Cottage Street in BeauFleur. To begin the walk you must shed your earthly guise of course and then only a hop, skip and large jump through a ultra reality dream drop hoop will take you to the furred, feathered, and finned ones you loved so well here on earth.

Kesces, the Familiar to the Gypsy Queen, Magikys Cigany, who lived a quiet life on Abbottsford Road, had been searching for the Rainbow Tree for ages to help her Queen return from where she came. Kemeny, the wise one of the Abbottsford Cats, discovered it one day... but, it was in a cat dream and she couldn't (or wouldn't) dream drop at that time. It was too early for her to leave this world. It would take a special traveller to find the Rainbow Tree which was where the end/beginning of the Rainbow Bridge was to help the Queen return to those she loved. This special one was about to arrive on Abbottsford Road.

"Kemeny's DayDream" @2011

Photo Art by Kim Yvonne Cady

Photograph by Michael Owsowitz

Brett Jelenti - A Cruel Man

2011-06-22T13:57:00.005-05:00

Brett Jelenti was born outside of Beau Fleur, in a suburb called Viande, the son of a wealthy lawyer. He was the only son, burdened with the expectations of an extremely ambitious father. Mr. Jelenti expected his son to run his practice when he retired. All of his father's ambitions fell on Brett’s shoulders as Mr. Jelenti began to lose firm grasp on reality. Brett’s father became consumed by alcohol when he was 45 years old. The older man hid his affliction well while he was building the business. Now that it had flourished, the lack of challenge, dealing with a son that was both brilliant and troublesome, and secret financial worries pushed him over the edge. He was hospitalized three times for alcohol poisoning.

It was Brett who found his dad dead of a gunshot wound to his head. When he found him, he sat a moment next to his father’s dead body and smoked a cigarette. He picked up the bottle of Scotch that the old man had left on the kitchen table and took a swig. Then he calmly dialed 911 and left the house.

After the funeral, at the reading of the will, Brett had expected to share quite a bit of money with his mother and sister. Unfortunately, Mr. Jelenti had troubles with the IRS it seemed. The whys of his suicide became apparent. He had been fighting the IRS for years with no one's knowledge. His practice was in shambles and the IRS was beating down his door. The estate owed money. There was nothing left.

Brett, himself, went out and got drunk that night. He woke up with a splitting headache, a stranger in his bed and an idea.

He never was too keen on finishing school to become a lawyer. His father had known that. Yet, through his schooling Brett learned he could be quite charming when he needed to. He wasn’t a bad looking guy according to the string of women he dated. After putting these positive traits together, and the fact that he really had no interest in being poor or working a day job, he came up with an alternative occupation.

He would woo rich, older women and steal them blind! Not a bad job actually. They could afford it. He saw how his mother used to spend his father's money. If anything went missing, the insurance would cover it. Also, he'd be giving these old wealthy hags a chance at a brief romance in their twilight years. A win-win situation!

So Brett Jelenti began his career as a thief and gigolo. Treating woman well was never one of Brett's strong points. Yet, he learned quickly how to flatter the older of the fairer sex and get into their beds and wallets. Once in their house, he carefully chose what to take. He chose jewelry that was rarely worn, therefore, rarely missed. He actually was shocked at how many of these women just threw huge quantities of gold and jewels in dresser drawers never to be noticed again. He noticed them.

He became quite good at his occupation and was making a healthy paycheck. One day he read about an older woman who was famous for helping animals in Beau Fleur. He could care less about that. What caught his eye was the rest of the article. She was supposed to have a treasure trove of antiques that had "magical" powers. Well, whether they had magical powers or not, he was sure the old lady had a treasure trove!

So he set his sites on Magikys Cigany, the eccentric old gypsy of Abbottsford Road. Soon Brett would not only learn that some of the artifacts were indeed magical, but, he would also remember his encounter with Maggie and her "friends" - The Abbottsford Cats - for the rest of his life.

"Magikys Cigany" The Gypsy Queen

2011-06-20T21:44:00.003-05:00

Of course, it seems these day where humans are, cats must be too. Truthfully, the African Wild Cat was a solitary wild cat that really didn't mix well with humans. Throughout the ages, after luring and domesticating some less leery wild cats, both in Africa and Europe, humans discovered that cats were very helpful with keeping smaller varmints at bay in addition to comforting their humans in times of trouble.

Unfortunately, humans have also vilified the cat as a being not quite animal, but, belying an intelligence and spirit as deep as the human spirit. This characteristic of the feline was feared by the rabble in the middle ages and, surprisingly, by some of the clergy. That clergy, though, were self-seeking types who were looking for scapegoats for their own misdeeds. The poor cat was a perfect target. Luckily the middle-ages passed, and the cat took her rightful place by the side of cat-adoring humans again. That "specialness" of the feline became one his most endearing traits. The mystery, loyalty and love of a cat was something a human longed for but did not know quite how to handle.

The Abbottsford Cats are quite special, and much of that is because of the symbiosis among these feral throwaways, one special woman, and her special cat. Magikys Cigany, who most called Maggie, was born in the United States, the only granddaughter of Hungarian immigrants. Her grandparents loved the old country completely and taught Maggie all of their ways. They were gypsies. They lived by the Roma gypsy rules. Maggie's grandfather was pure Romani and her grandmother was Hungarian. Caught in a prejudice against her grandfather, her grandparents decided to move to the land of plenty. The land without prejudice - the United States of America. They saved what they could from her grandfather's musical ability on the violin and her grandmother's seamstress skills. They boarded the ship to New York City three months pregnant with with Maggie's mother, Ana. It was both a journey of trepidation and elation. There was no turning back when they arrived. After deciding to settle in a small city near the Grand Lakes, Beau Fleur, they began to take root. They lived in a house full of magic, music and love. Ana married briefly. Her husband died in a factory accident just a year after marriage. She lived the rest of her days with her parents. Maggie was born just after her father passed. She was special from the start. Her grandfather was the first to see that Maggie understood the old ways. He would spend hours with her teaching her the magic of the playing cards, geomancy, and music. Maggie introduced the cats.

She brought home every homeless kitten in the neighborhood. She learned to bottle feed the kittens, raise them with love, and find good homes for them. She excelled in school, but, made few friends. She was plagued by nightmares of a vision that she could not forget in the daylight. Her grandfather finally gave her a book when she was 20 years old. She read the book and never said a word to anyone about it. Her grandfather died the year after she read it . Her grandmother passed soon after. Maggie took care of her mother in the same house they had all lived in all twenty-two of her years. She had no desire to leave Abbottsford Road. Everything she loved was right there.

After a brief illness, her mother passed too, and Maggie was alone. She had inherited a great deal of money. Where it came from was a mystery. Her mother had a settlement from the factory for her father's death and invested wisely. But, even that could not explain all the money Maggie inherited. She decided to honor her heritage and the book that she would let no one read. She used some of the money to study the ways of the Romani people. She travelled throughout Hungary, Romania and India and met many relatives. Through these travels, she learned powerful secrets and brought home much magic. She knew you could not really buy magic, but, many of the lessons she learned from her grandfather and her travels went into designing her house on Abbottsford with magical trinkets she carefully bought in the old country. With the wisdom of her grandfather and those she had met in the old country, she began to learn powerful spells of healing. She wanted to heal. The spells of love, revenge, and such did not interest her. She wanted only to be able to heal. So Maggie lived for 30 years on Abbottsford Road, healing those who called for her.

She had a brief affair and one daughter; then closed the door on romance. Healing and magic was so much more fun ... and it was her destiny. There was only one part of her destiny she could not achieve. It was spelled out deep in her tattered old book. It was a source of frustration, yet, a source of inspiration to continue her work as a healer of animals on this Earth as long as she was able. Yet destiny moves at its own speed. Maggie would soon learn that one's destiny has a way of creeping up on one when it's least expected.

 "Magikys Cigany" @2011 Kim Yvonne Cady

Kecses - The Spirit Cat

2011-06-17T20:31:00.005-05:00

Kecses is a Spirit Cat sworn to uphold the Code of a Spirit Cat. She was born like any other kitten, but, endowed with a sense and need to find a human soul mate. She didn't have far to look. Magikys Cigany (Maggie as her friends called her), was born on Abbottsford Road in the city of BeauFleur raised by her Hungarian parents to respect the ways of the old country. She spoke the language and had the accent her parents had. She was well-versed in the ways of everything gypsy.

A good cat was hard to come by. A good cat was what a gypsy needed to run ahead of her and warn her of danger when on the road. A dog ran in packs and would run off at the sight of a pack in the old country. A good cat stayed close and through the acute feline senses became a protector and comforter to her chosen human.

Maggie knew she needed a good cat. Little did she know how good of a cat she found when she found little Kecses in her nip beds in the back of her house. Maggie would plant catnip in her garden to add a little spice to the lives of the Abbottsford Cats that ruled the neighborhood. She had taught Sam, a gentle rather non-cat man how to trap, neuter and release a feral cat back into the neighborhood when it was found. By doing this, the cats would keep the mice and rats at bay. They would be fed, watered and protected in the winter with the fabulous cat houses Sam could make. Also, they would not overpopulate the area and keep other felines out. Unfortunately, little Kecses was an interloper. She was about six weeks old, and extremely independent for a kitten that young.

Maggie didn't really find her. Kecses found Maggie. She sat in those cat nip beds and let out the loudest yowl that the neighborhood had heard in years. The kitten was extremely satisfied with herself when the woman came outside and found her. She let her pick her up and immediately demanded food with a frantic continuous yowling of a lessor volume.

It wasn't long before Maggie found a suitable name for the little one. The kitten was beautiful. She was a red and gold specked tortie with prominent black and brown bands. She was tiny, as many female torties tend to be. She was a lady all the way. As a lady, when she wanted something, she got it. Mostly, Maggie saw how incredibly graceful the kitten was. The word in Hungarian for graceful was Kecses, pronounced "catchchess", but, most people pronounced her name "Kaysees"; and it stuck. Maggie didn't mind. She found the name perfect however pronounced.

It wasn't long before Maggie began teaching the apt pupil the ways of a familiar. Kecses was an eager learner. Maggie and Kecses were never seen apart after the moment Maggie found her sitting in her nip beds. The powerful magic Maggie had with Kecses was a bit overwhelming at times.

Maggie was no longer alone with her magic; and Kecses, the Spirit Cat, had fulfilled one of the main decrees of the Code. They were the most perfectly charming duo Abbottsford Road had seen in a long time!

The Code of the Spirit Cat

"Delikatny" The Healer

2011-06-09T20:22:00.011-05:00

Delikatny was a most unusual kitten. He was born to a litter in the desert of Las Vegas. Luckily, for himself and his siblings, the part of this desert was situated directly behind a small casino. Situated directly behind this small casino was a dumpster. For a hungry mother cat, heavy with kittens, this dumpster looked to be the perfect spot for a nest.

Delikatny’s mama hid her kits under a bush next to the casino. One of the cocktail waitresses saw her run to the dumpster one evening. She followed the beautiful white cat and found her nest. After this discovery, the waitress would give mama cat and the three kits a little extra snack. Lobster, steak, ham, and caviar were flowing. The little family benefitted extraordinarily from Vegas’ “free buffet” policy. Ordinarily, the manager would have a litter ousted by the local animal control. But, he was sweet on the kind-hearted waitress. She convinced him to leave them alone. In the meantime, she phoned her feline-savvy friend and prepared to find homes for the entire bunch.

It would be hard to trap this group. The mama had never known people. She was a true feral and wary. The waitress’ friend knew if she didn’t catch mama the first time, there would be no second try.

The girl, the waitress, and the manager set up one trap after withholding the scraps for two days. Mama could eat from the dumpster, so they hoped a delectable sardine and lobster bisque would entice this wild thing into their well concealed cage.

Since Las Vegas is a 24 hour town, the waitress easily set up a series of sentries to keep an eye on the cage. Coyotes were rampant in Vegas, especially around the dumpsters. She didn’t want Ivory (as she named Mama) to meet a bad end.

It worked. That morning, the mama was hissing, throwing herself against the wire cage and spitting like a snake. They quickly gathered the kittens up, who were barely two weeks old and hustled the crew off to the feral-friendly vet who had the scars to prove it.

The trapping group found a ranch to take the mama and the kittens. Mama had the run of the barn. She quickly hid each of her kits in a fine nest. She was a good mom indeed. She never ran out of milk, and in a month the three kittens were scampering all over. Two were female and one was male. The waitress decided to take the male. He was slower that the two females. But, as she whispered while talking to her manager, “He has a cream color coat that’s to die for.”

After a few months, the waitress realized Sunny, as she named him, was different than most cats. First of all, he purred ALL the time. When she would hold him, he purred louder. He would walk in circles at times. Actually, he seemed quite confused.

The vet thought he may have some neurological problems, but felt this would not hold him down. He deemed the little Sunny happy and healthy. The waitress just thought of him as special. Then one day, the waitress never woke up. Sunny lay on her legs looking up at her ashen face. He meowed and decided to sleep by her hair. She was so still, so he lay over her chest. When the paramedics came in, they pulled him gently off the girl. It was an overdose. Not understanding what overdose meant, Sunny tried to keep these strangers away from his friend. He bit one hard. The attendant just threw him on the floor and kept working on the girl. She was not moving.

Something in Sunny clicked. She had left. She went somewhere else. He could barely smell her anymore. She had left.

So Sunny decided to look for her. He crept out the half-opened door, unnoticed. In the desert heat, he began his quest. He looked for her everywhere in the strange city. He had never seen so many people and buildings. But, he kept looking.

One day, a little girl started pointing at him. “Daddy, daddy, kitty, kitty”. Well, the daddy could see that this cat had seen better days. Sunny had been walking the Las Vegas Strip for weeks, eating out of dumpsters and drinking from fountains. The man was a good-hearted man. He picked the cat up and noticed his blue collar. He would call the owner and help to reunite this poor cat with his companion.

The family put Sunny in the back of the SUV. It had a fence, so with the litter box and a little food, Sunny was not in the way. But, he was mad. He knew he had to find the waitress, his only real friend. He had no time for this Good Samaritan stuff.

The first gas station that the family stopped at he escaped. The little girl had opened his door, and he was gone. The family felt bad, searched for hours, and gave up. They had tried.

Now, Sunny was in the real desert. The family was staying at a hotel outside of the city. It was barren and hot. He ran under the gas station, and then set out to return to the glittering city east of him.

It was blistering the next day. He had had no water. Dehydration was catching up and he decided to stop for a moment. He slept. But, it was no ordinary sleep. It was the sleep of death.

Then he saw her. She was beautiful. His friend! She waved gently and told him to turn back… it wasn’t his time. She told him, when he laid on her, he helped save her. She was alive, but, barely. She would be going far away where he couldn’t go… to help her get better.

She told him, he was a healer. She had always known he was special. He healed her. Then she disappeared.

The family found him half dead on the highway. They also found out the fate of the young waitress. She knew she was in for the fight of her life, as she got clean. She was ready to face what she had to to do it. So the family adopted the quiet Sunny and flew him home to BeauFleur. He was fine with this. After that dream, he knew his calling.

Little did he know, though, this family had one very persnickity Chihuahua, Bambi. And most importantly, that he was soon to become one of the Abbottsford Cats and fulfill his dream’s destiny.

to be continued...

"Delikatny" The Healer @ PhotoArt by Kim Yvonne Cady

"Zereto" Beauty & Love

2011-06-05T15:47:00.005-05:00

It seems to many that black cats do not get adopted as quickly as the other colors and combination of colors. I am not certain a statistical analysis has been run on this; but, if you ask a veteran rescuer, a firm yes will be heard when you ask if it’s harder to adopt out the black kitties than the others. Why this is so is not so easy to understand. That would probably take a sociologist with a PhD and a great deal of time on his hands to figure out. Personally, I love black cats, black dogs, and little black dresses. They all work for me.

Unfortunately, when you are born in a litter of five pure black kittens, you best have something to distinguish you from the pack, or you may linger in a shelter or worse.

Blackie was small and non-distinguished. His four other black littermates were either livelier (they probably got some coaching from mom) or had beautiful white whiskers. One even had white whiskers and cute little white eyebrows! The adopters were swarming around her. All to the good. These babies got scooped up mighty fast.

The shelter where Blackie came from was what they call a “high-kill” shelter. This kind of shelter euthanizes cat and kitten after cat and kitten. If you aren’t adopted in three days, you are probably on to your next cat life.

It was obvious Blackie didn’t get the memo. He just slept and slept in the back of the cage in total darkness- little black kitty in a shadowy cage. His littermates danced, pranced and showed off their white whiskers to their best advantage. At the end of the weekend blitz adoption palooza get rid of them all event… Blackie was just waking up.

A young woman saw the kitten. She was in her 20s with fabulous black hair and dark eyes with a hint of hazel. She put her nose right up to Blackie (who actually was named Blackie at the time), and smiled as the kitten put a tiny paw up to her face. It was the first real movement Blackie made all weekend.

The woman hailed a hard-working, very tired volunteer. “So what happens to him now that it’s over.” The volunteer just shrugged. The woman knew what that meant. She crisply spoke, “OK - Box!”

The volunteer didn’t like this woman’s attitude. After all, she appeared to want a box to put Blackie in, without signing any adoption papers or seeing if she herself wouldn’t be a worse fate for the kitten! Kaley saw the volunteer’s weary and wary look. “OK, OK… bring them on! All the forms & the personality tests, and what have yous. You see, I have black hair and this kitten isn’t going to go over that Rainbow Bridge without someone who understands black and not until he’s good and ready.”

The mention of the Rainbow Bridge - the code word that every good animal rescuer knows alludes to dying - made the volunteer smile a bit. She figured if this girl knew about the Rainbow Bridge, she couldn’t be all that bad. Blackie probably wouldn’t make it to next week’s adoption palooza anyway.

Kaley signed the papers, paid the $100.00 for the neutered and vetted kitten. She was giddy with a certain sort of self-satisfaction, for saving another little one. Yet, this little one seemed so quiet. He just looked at her like he adored her; like he knew all along there was no need for prancing. Kaley was on her way.

Once in the car, she spoke “OK Mister, first the name. Ummmmm…. Blackie? No, no… not for you. You’re a lover not a fighter. Anyone can see that! Mother will be proud of our little - Zereto!! Sweet loving Zereto!”

So an ordinary black kitten ready for a one way trip over the Rainbow Bridge with no one to meet him or wait for became Zereto, the sweet, loving kitten. Soon Kaley and her mother, Maggie, would understand just how powerful beauty and love can be. Zereto would show them emphatically as he too joined the Abbottsford Cats.

"Zereto Studies" PhotoArt @2010 Kim Yvonne Cady

"Kiralyno" The Warrior Queen

2011-05-29T13:16:00.054-05:00

Kiralyno was the oldest of the Abbottsford Cats. She was a throwaway kitten. Throwaway kittens are the ones cat fanciers sell cheaply. The more honorable breeders, who just love a certain type of breed, will be sure the kitten is spayed to prevent the breed from going in a direction they dislike. What is disliked and liked in the world of cat fancy usually has very little to do with whether a kitten is healthy, bright, or lovable. Mostly, it has to do with the current fads of fanciers of the breed. Some breeders try to breed for health as well as fads such as 'no nose Persians' (This is a fad which has bred cats that grow up to have numerous breathing problems) or other traits that work against a feline's health. Kiralyno just didn't fit the mold of what her breeder wanted.

But, Kiralyno didn't think of herself as a throwaway. She thought of herself as a queen. She had been born the runt of the litter. She learned to fight for mama's milk as soon as she was born. Most runts just don't make it. If they can't get food, they wither away, perhaps catch a disease, unprotected by the important nutrients in the mama cat's milk. Eventually they die if there is no intervention. She survived.

Kiralyno didn't need intervention. She may have been small, but, she was a fighter. She would wiggle and shove her way to the teat and suckle until one of the bigger kits got his way. She always managed to get enough to keep her alive and healthy.

When of age, she was sold as a house pet to a small family for $50.00, as she did come from a champion bloodline, according to breeding standards.

Unfortunately, the family didn't realize that Kiralyno knew she came from royalty. She expected EVERYONE to respect her territory and treat her as a queen should be treated. The family who had bought her had a 4 year old little boy and a beagle. They thought a kitten would be just the thing to round out their home. They may have been right had they went to the shelter and saved a cat who had a few less bloodlines! With Kiralyno, things went down from the start. She was an inquisitive kitten, not the cuddly type that likes to lay in bed and be with someone warm. Not Kiralyno. She liked to wander all night, all over the house and shriek when she found bugs. She liked to find bugs!

She loved the curtains. They were made of fine shear cotton. Her little claws fit perfectly in the intricate weaving for the vertical climb to the shelf at the top where all the fine china was kept. During the day, the little boy would chase her around grabbing her tail and pulling back as hard as he could. She was too small (at that time) to do much damage. She hissed and squawked mightily when he pulled her into his lap by that tail. As soon as he let go, she would vanish for hours.

The beagle (who really hated cats) laid low for a little while. But, when he saw Kiralyno swipe at his little boy, that was that. The beagle snapped at her just missing amputating her little misused tail. All through this, the parents continued as though all was going quite well, until that fateful night when Kiralyno finally reached the top of the curtains. She had been with the family for about a month and at twelve weeks old was full of energy. That night, after achieving the summit, she daintily pranced, galloped and sauntered all over the shelf, dropping one piece of china after another onto the rug below. Most of the china made it through intact. Unfortunately, great grandma's tea pot was toast.

The next day, Kiralyno was on her way to the "no-kill" shelter. She languished in Pet Place (the local pet store that helped rescues show off their charges) for almost two months. She was getting older, and not so cuddly anymore. Not many people wanted a grown cat, especially one so reticent. Two months turned into two years. She would on occasion get a break from the Pet Place cubby cages when she would be "fostered" by a kindly volunteer who wanted to give her a break from staying in that noisy store and tiny cage. On weekends, she would be "featured" in a outdoor venue where people would surround her and stick their hands in her cage and try to pet her. She really didn't like that. It was embarrassing. She learned to growl at them pretty well. She got a really good hiss up and was noted for her incredible spitting. Her Highness was scared, lonely, and quickly shutting down.

She would just lay in her cage, when the people left, resigned to the solitary confinement of the no-kill life for a kitty nobody wanted. Finally, a foster stepped up and offered to foster her again. It wasn't long before the foster family let it be known to all in the rescue that Kiralyno "bit her husband and meant it!. This cat would never find a home."

That's when Maggie, a local rescuer, who also belonged to the group, e-mailed back "I'll take her". Kiralyno was back in the store after the biting incident (and this time close to being "put down" for behavioral reasons which many no-kills use to cull the unadoptable). Maggie didn't let the rescue take any time to say no. She went to the store, scooped up the queen and talked to her firmly. "Kiralyno, you are our protector, now, aren't you? We've been waiting for you. You'll be fine little lady."

That was when Kiralyno, the Warrior Queen became one of the fiercest protectors of the Abbottsford Cats....

"Kiralyno Stalks"
Collaborative Artwork @2011
Macro from acrylic painting "Interstice" by George Grace
Macro from "The Abbottsford Cats" photoart by Kim Yvonne Cady

"Cica" THe WIld One

2011-05-08T15:28:00.009-05:00

Cica was just a tiny brown flash of hunger as she darted out to grab the turkey left by the ladies at 'Zumbalicious' gym. She lived in the supermarket parking lot after her mother was killed by a car. Her siblings didn't survive long after their mom had died. That was for the best. Cica ate bugs and roamed away from their nest whimpering for days.

Finally, a little boy saw her. He grabbed her spike of a tail and pulled her towards him. When the boy's mother saw what he was doing, she yelled loudly, "Jasper, leave that kitten alone!." Well, Jasper knew STOP when he heard it and let go of the kitten's tail with haste . Cica ran so fast into the bushes, her little heart felt like bursting. Then she ran right into a building. When she hit the building she saw stars for a few moments. She watched them twinkle and roll all around her. She was too exhausted to catch them, but put one tired, little paw up in a futile attempt. She never felt the touch of a human hand before. If she wasn't a true feral then, she was now. Not only did this first touch frighten her; it was downright painful!

In front of the Zumbalicious classroom there were many humans; mostly small ones with all manners of skin and hair. They saw Cica one evening and cooed "poor little thing... Marquenta, do you have tuna? We need water too."

Because Cica would come only as far as the median that was between the gym and the parking lot, the ladies took to feeding her in two plastic bowls. When they left, she would run out from under the cars in the lot to the tree planted on the median, to the bowl, grab some turkey or tuna and run back under a tire!

One day, a new woman joined the zumba class in full anticipation of happily shedding years and pounds over the next few months. Instead, as she zumba'd here and zumba'd there to the infectious music in the room, she spied a small gray and gold critter running back and forth from the median out front to the parked cars. The woman couldn't believe that a kitten that small could manuever around the moving vehicles so well.

"What's that?" she yelled as she zumba'd to the front door pointing at Cica.

"Oh, our little kitten. We would've caught her, but nobody can. She is too quick! She's been out there on and off for months. This is the first time we've seen her for weeks."

The quick-thinking woman, who just happened to be an ace animal rescuer, said "I can get that cat". In a blink of an eye, the woman took some turkey from the dish and made a trail to her lovely new car.

Cica never took her eyes off this creature who was stealing her food. But, Cica noticed she also had more food and it was fresh! So began the cat and mouse game Cica and the woman played as the woman tantalized the kitten with one piece of food tossed closer and closer to her car.

The woman noticed the kitten was shaking. She must be starving, and terribly frightened, the woman thought. Cica began to take the food as the soft, gentle words came her way, "Come one little one, I won't hurt you".. A piece was gobbled down, and just a few inches away, another piece would appear. Cica, not knowing for sure what to do, let her stomach lead the way. She followed the trail . Little by little she found herself at the door of the Mercedes. The woman was still as she watched the tiny kitten take that final leap into the car.

With movements as quick as cat, the woman shut the door and watched as poor Cica flew from window to window, claws out, yowling hysterically.

"Looks like ya' got her!" one Zumbalicious lady giggled while rolling her eyes, "Now what!".

The woman gave a knowing smile, "I guess that was the easy part!" The ladies all helped the woman get into the car, guarding carefully to be sure the kitten stayed put. All they could hear was fsist and HAA! HAA! from the kitten. These were not messages of joy!

As she drove home, the woman began to smell the poop. It was inevitalble. Some things were just too frightening for a small kitten! She smiled, and then laughed. New car, new kitten! A car can always be washed.. but, a kitten.. they are one of the most precious creatures alive.

Little did Cica know, Magikys Cigany, Maggie for short; the Abbottsford Road cat whisperer, and Gypsy Queen, was her benefactor. Cica's life on the streets was over.

She was on her way to becoming an Abbottsford Cat.

"Cica, the Wild One"
Photo Art @2011 Kim Yvonne Cady

"Bravo" The Warrior Prince

2011-05-01T01:12:00.022-05:00

Bravo was a sauntering kitten. A rather large but normal looking tabby with bad eyesight and a pedigree that would strike fear into any ordinary pampered house cats’ heart. He had been the only offsping of a backwoods experiment by a trapper who wanted a wild cat for a pet. This trapper had had a lynx for awhile, who actually stayed nearby for the food the trapper would share. The trapper had developed a respect for the young lynx, but as a true to form trapper and backwoodsman, he knew that a lynx’ fur was worth more than her friendship.

But something tugged inside of this grizzled trapper’s heart. He wanted a pet. Not just an ordinary pet - he wanted a cat that had attitude – big attitude. When one of his friend’s male kittens grew to an extraordinary size, he came up with a brilliant idea (for a backwoods hunter). He would mate his large male with the young female lynx.

It took quite awhile for the missy to reach her moment of rapture, but, it did occur. Since, the large tom was the only male available, as the hunter had put together a rather elaborate honeymoon suite for just the two of them - nature took over. The trapper was the proud owner of a clynx as he dubbed the sole kitten that came from the coupling. Once the kitten was born, the female lynx would have nothing to do with him. The male tom ran away to seek other wild women, and the trapper was forced to find someone who knew how to care for a kitten.

The trapper called him “Bravo” for the brave and fearsome soul that would take over once his bottle-feeding stage was complete. Unfortunately for the trapper and for Bravo, Bravo turned into a docile, sweet, rather large tabby. He would thrust his head into his bowl of kibble with relish, knowing the food was there, but unable to adequately gauge how far away it was. He was considerably farsighted!

To say the least, the trapper was disappointed. He didn’t want a docile, bottle-fed tomcat lolling around his trapping grounds. The trapper was fond of the kitten, but, this clynx would get eaten by the first hungry coyote that travelled past.

He asked around, casually, to see if anyone wanted to buy a bonafide clynx. There were no takers as when the prospective buyer came to see Bravo, he would head -butt the fellow and act the perfect gentleman. The trapper was embarrassed by his ill-fated attempt as a breeder. He put Bravo in his truck and drove him into the city. The trapper figured someone would find a cat that was so friendly. Bravo would walk up to anyone!

At a local hospital, the trapper hid food & water in some bushes and gave Bravo one last petting, “Good luck ya old housecat… why couldn’t’ve ya been a real fighter!” With that, the trapper dragged the sleepy Bravo under the bush where the food and water was and sped off.

Bravo didn’t fret. He just stretched out under the bush taking in some of the sun that leaked through the leaves and fell asleep. Little did the trapper know what dreams Bravo had that day. As his lynx blood began to stir in his now nine month old body, Bravo dreamt grand dreams, fabulous dreams. He felt his mother’s ancient lines calling.

He was to become a great warrior of the Abbottsford Cats.

"Bravo's Mom" @2011 Kim Yvonne Cady

Pencil & Digital

Kemeny and the Rainbow Tree

2011-04-18T20:36:00.002-05:00

There are tales throughout the world about the Rainbow Bridge. This is the celestial highway that allows those humans who've had special bonds with other critters of the earth to join in eternity. When a human or animal passes from this life to the next, they walk the Rainbow Bridge. For those who have cared for cats, dogs, horses, or any of the menagerie of life on earth, once they leave this realm, legend has it that they walk the Bridge and on the other side will be all the critters they loved and cared for waiting for them.

Kesces, the Familiar to the Gypsy Queen, Kiralyne, who lived a quiet life on Abbottsford Road, had been searching for the Rainbow Tree for ages to help her Queen return from where she came. Kemeny, the wise one of the colony of Abbottsford, discovered it one day... but, it was in a daydream and she couldn't (or wouldn't) dream drop at that time. It was too early for her to leave this world. It would take a special traveller to find the Rainbow Tree which was where the end/beginning of the Rainbow Bridge was to help the Queen return to those she loved. This special Traveller was about to arrive in Abbottsford.

"Kemeny's DayDream" @2011

Photo Art by Kim Yvonne Cady

Photograph by Michael Owsowitz

"Ember" The Leader

2011-04-03T10:16:00.028-05:00

Ember was a natural leader from the day he was born. He was one of those kittens that exuded energy, health and dominance. If he'd been a child, he would've been reprimanded often! Everything amazed Ember. The curtains, the kitchen table, the bees (ouch!), ants, very high bookshelves and best of all - dresser drawers that were filled with shredding material!

His life took an unfortunate turn when his person found out she was going to have a baby. His person was not really a bad sort, but she believed in all the old warnings of how a cat might suck the breath out of a baby, and other dire feline tales of harm towards a human infant. Of course, most people know that these tales are told by those who simply don't know cats. Cats and babes have gotten along famously for thousands of years when monitored by a responsible human. Plus, when the baby is very young and the possibilities of a scratch or kitty sleeping too close to cause breathing problems exist, there is always the word "out!"and doors with locks.

Ember's person didn't see it this way. She immediately took the pretty white kitten speckled with black to a local rescue. She did make sure that Ember would get every chance to find a home. She said her goodbyes to him, his two sisters, and his mom all on the same afternoon;. Once she was in her car, they were forgotten.

The rescue he was dumped at was a good rescue. The rescuer took in only as many cats as she could place in a reasonable time. She used the chain pet stores to showcase her critters. A bunch of young volunteers came by too and loved playing with the kitties.

Still, Ember was the last kitten to be chosen at the showcase. There were 6 kittens. He was still there when one last customer came in. This lady said she had dreamt about a "white cat". She snatched Ember up with no questions, paid the $120.00 adoption fee which included Ember's shots and neuter, and happily brought her new friend home.

He was a handful! He ate her plants; he shredded her carpet; he escaped more than once, but, she always found him. He had grown into a beautiful Siamese mix. Smart as any cat she'd homed before. He loved the outdoors though. He always was at the windows. She knew this could mean trouble. There was another kitty for companionship in the household, but, Ember just had that energy, that restless spirit.

One day, when the lady came home, Ember was gone. She had no idea how he got out. There were no doors open, no windows open, not a open area anywhere. But, he was gone. Losing a companion cat like that is one of the hardest things a caring human can go through. For this lady, it was no different. She placed signs promising a large reward if Ember was found. She checked the shelters, the rescues, and animal control. She even put the word out to her landlord who hadn't known she had cats.

A week later there was still no sight of Ember. She shed a few more tears but tried to go on with her life. Strangely that evening, she had another dream. The dream was in a setting much like the first dream she had about the white cat. Ember was there. He was walking along a road. He was playing with stones and bugs. He would occasionally walk into the grass when a car swept by. He'd hop through the grass. On one of his hops, he suddenly turned around towards her. He was purring loudly and she felt a warmth and comfort flow through her like no other. When she woke that morning, she was no longer worried about her missing boy. She knew he was doing alright.

"Ember in the Grass" @2011 Kim Yvonne Cady

"Guiden" The Starkitty Guide

2011-03-27T15:51:00.032-05:00

Guiden was born on a farm. After a short but enjoyable life with his litter, he became one of many animals that end up being sold for a few dollars at a local flea market.

Now, many of the peddlers at these small flea markets have their rules about selling. But, among the legitimate lurk a sordid crew of not-so-nice guys. They buy live animals to sell to owners of kennels who supply laboratories that test on animals. It is a very dark side of the "happy-go-lucky" flea market atmosphere.

Luckily, when Guiden was brought to the flea market to "find his forever home", he wasn't approached by the underbelly. He was picked out by a young man and woman who wanted a pet. As most of us know, kittens are very vulnerable, especially when tame. They trust completely and see things only through their very young eyes. They expect only what their mom gave them - warmth, food and protection. Generally, a kitten will stay with their mom for at least eight weeks. Guiden was just at eight weeks when he was taken to the flea market. He was just starting to eat a little kibble.

But destiny has it's way with us all. Guiden was no different. The Abbottsford Cats story begins with his first encounter with humans away from his birthplace. This part of Guiden's story comes from a true story. Animals face so many dangers from irresponsible and/or cruel humans. One of my sweetest, but most aware cats is a handsome tuxedo named, Merlyn. Merlyn's story began just as Guiden's does. He faces death because of human anger and pride. (Musn't say anymore - or no story!) It continues through a twirling world of feral cats and colorful characters; cruelty and kindness; earthly barriers and magical travels..

I introduce to you "Guiden" The Starkitty Guide

:"Merlyn's Star Walk" @2011 Kim Cady

"Kemeny" The Wise One

2011-03-26T10:29:00.014-05:00

In this blog, I will outline and give a generous amount of backstory information for The Abbottsford Cats "Bubble of Love", the first in a series of three novels. Below is Kemeny's story. Once she joined the colony, she became known as "The Wise One". This is why...

Kemeny's name has Hungarian roots, literally meaning "hard". Hard is an apt description of this little girl's life. She was found on the streets as a tiny kitten, one of two kittens whose mum never came back after foraging for food. Kemeny's gorgeous long, silver fur caught the eye of a neighborhood human gang. One day they plucked her out of the litter and swung her around their head by her tail. This was the beginning of some very rough times for Kemeny. Luckily, there were two young boys watching who were not part of the gang. They protested, and being bigger than the biggest of the gang, won ownership of the kitten. They found the litter mate and carried them both home.

Their dad was a professor at a well-respected university. Their mom was a scientist. The family were refugees from a country they no longer could live in. They took the little kittens in, well, as far the garage at least. This kindness, though, led to another danger for Kemeny. The family had always let their animals roam as they wished.

One day Kemeny was soaking up some beautiful,, warm rays at the side of the street next to a curb. A neighbor ran her over his large SUV without even realizing it. The father saw the little girl crying and trying to crawl. After a trip to the veterinarian, it was found that she had broken a leg. She was lucky to have not been killed! This duality in luck would follow her the rest of her life. The leg mended well. Kemeny's luck held out.

As time went on, Kemeny found she couldn't compete with her older brother and other household cat for food. She was tiny. She just couldn't get enough birds to make up for the kibble that the family left outside for them.

It was time. Her leg and tail had mended. She had been "vetted" with shots and a spay. She had to become tougher to survive and she knew it. She decided to go into the woods ..... alone. If she could make it there, she'd make it anywhere. If not, well, she had little chance of thriving now with the males dominating the food bowl! After one long look back at the kind family that saved her and her brothers frolicking in the garden, she leaped into the dark wooded greenway to begin her next adventure...

to be continued...

PhotoArt by Kim Yvonne Cady "Kemeny;s Journey Begins" @2011

The Characters

2011-03-19T17:26:00.038-05:00

THE ABBOTTSFORD CATS

"Kiralyno" The Warrior Queen

The main boodle of the Abbottsford colony consists of seven distinct characters. In a feral colony, generally cats maintain a loose order based on strength, age, and sex. The Abbottsford Cats, being a bit out of the ordinary, maintain a strong hierarchy based on feline senses, strength and wisdom. In this post, I will introduce our seven main colony cats who have developed senses that we cannot fully appreciate. Each cat has their special place in the boodle. Each title by the name is designated by each cats' prominent strength. As these cats have been spayed and neutered by Sam, their human caretaker, they have free time available that is usually spent caring for kittens and finding suitable mates. Now, their time is spent perfecting their feline skills.

Their wisdom of the world is close to magical!

"Ember" The Leader

"Delikatny" The Healer

"Kemeny" The Wise One

"Zereto" The Beautiful

"Cica" The Wild One

"Bravo" The Warrior Prince

and the humans and their companions!

All PhotoArt @ Kim Cady

Introduction

2011-03-19T17:21:00.001-05:00

The Abbottsford Cats are quite real! They are a managed (as well as any boodle of cats can be managed!) colony of feral cats who live on Abbottsford Road in Buffalo, NY. Abbottsford Road is located in the West Side of Buffalo, the rust-belt town that the Bethlehem Steel company called its home in the city’s industrial heyday. Buffalo is still proud of its blue collar heritage, although it is slowly redefining itself as a cultural and educational center. As a visitor to Buffalo, you cannot walk away without noticing Buffalo’s beautiful but greatly deteriorating architecture. Filled with gargoyle adorned 100 year old mansions, modern day street art and displaying an extreme dichotomy of old gothic and new money chic, Buffalo appears to be a city holding onto its past with a spirited, but, somewhat tentative grasp.

When I moved to a new apartment in Buffalo this summer, during a short-lived relocation back to my hometown, I found myself on Abbottsford Road. It is located perpendicular to Forest Avenue which for years was the street everyone recognized as the street the Buffalo State Asylum for the Insane renamed the Buffalo Psychiatric Center was located on. An old out of use psychiatric hospital is pretty foreboding at best and Buffalo’s was incredibly emotive. Gothic and huge, with towers that spawned stories of tortured madness captured in their towering walls, it loomed over the west end of the city. The tower’s ominous aura filled the foggy skies of that portion of the West Side for years. These days, the hospital is being reborn as The H.H. Richardson Complex celebrating a feat of architecture that was meant to be a soft and caring hospital for the mentally ill.

It truly is a magnificent structure, and to be living beneath those towers was both frightening and awe-inspiring. That is where I first met “The Abbottsford Cats”. Chris, their wonderful caretaker, a man who was not overly sentimental about cats or animals, took it upon himself to spay and neuter a band of feral cats that were proliferating at alarming rates in the Abbottsford neighborhood. In Buffalo, ferals have it especially hard. Pregnant females have long hard winters to get through. Many do not make it. Kittens fare worse. I was extremely impressed with this man who simply was doing the “right thing”. He learned all about Trap/Neuter/Release from the local feral friend group and single-handedly spayed and neutered almost 30 cats. These kitties have it as good as it can get for a feral colony. They roam freely on Abbottsford Road and territories around the area. A few friendly neighbors leave feeding & watering stations for them, although, the colony isn’t managed completely. The only serious work is done by Chris, and he may be moving soon.

So this band of spayed & neutered (and one uncaught intact female), cavort, make ghost shadows in the early evening hours and generally play, eat and sleep throughout this magical old neighborhood.

When I left Abbottsford Road, I couldn’t forget one evening as I was sipping wine on the porch. A cold breeze went through me reminding me of the Buffalo winter to come. I didn’t want to go in though. I watched through the sun flower garden, and up and down the old broken steps of the house as these little creatures ran, jumped and frolicked in the early evening shadows. There were cats as old as 10 years and kittens not more than eight weeks running about. It was like I was dreaming of magical creatures playing under a glowing street lamp throughout the neighborhood with those gothic towers looking on.

So was born “The Abbottsford Cats” I think you'll find they have some great stories to tell!

Gargoyle on Complex, Photo Author Unknown