The other day when I was walking along the bike path where all the cats live, I met a woman and her preteen daughter moseying along the path pulling a big red wagon. In the wagon was a huge Costco sized bag of dry cat food. And a five gallon jug of water.
We chatted a bit and it turns out that Sunday is “her” day for feeding the cats. She and some other kind-hearted people each take a day. They have really gotten to know the cats well. They have an idea which ones have been born feral cats and which ones were abandoned. Some of the cats have names. The little orange one that always runs up to me, wants to be pet, and isn’t the least afraid of BC – her name is Emma. The woman and her daughter are thinking of adopting her.
These people also trap the cats, especially the kittens, and take them to the humane society to get spayed or neutered. Then they bring them back and let them go where they found them. She told me I can tell by the snip in which ear whether it is a fixed male or female.
I wondered aloud at my measly bag of cat food I carry with me and the kind lady said that anything helps.
I know my healing book that is based on Buddhist philosophies advocated being kind to animals and to help those that are suffering. I started feeding the feral cats on the bike path during my recuperation.
But that woman’s wagon was big; as was the food bag and water jug. She brings them fresh water so they don't drink from the polluted pond. She and her red wagon were like a gigantic heart of giving. Ain’t no power walk when you are dragging that thing behind you.
The fact that I double up on my power walk and cat feeding. Does make me seem a bit more efficient than just a pure giver.
At any rate, the red wagon once again reminded me of all that is good in life.
Tomorrow, part deux