Fun fact: Cats rub against people they like to mark them as part of their “gang.”
Stripes was a silver Tabby with no remarkable features except one: the tip of his nose was half-white and half-brown. Despite his rather ordinary appearance, we very quickly discovered that Stripes had a unique talent: He was able to win the affection of practically every person he encountered. We often had meetings, home-school get-togethers and Bible studies in our house, and Stripes greeted and saw to the comfort of every guest. Even cat-haters would succumb to his gentle purr and docile temperament.
Stripes patiently endured being dressed up in various outfits, carried in numerous objects, and being the accomplice in many prankish activities, while seeming to love every minute of it. He was a people cat. In the seventeen years we had him, I never heard him hiss or strike at anything other than another male cat that dared to step on our property. He would chase squirrels and birds, but would never actually catch them.
Another talent Stripes had was exploring. This is not unusual for a cat, but Stripes excelled in the art. He explored the interior of our cars and took many unwitting trips. He would follow us on walks, and people would say, “Is that your cat?” Then we would hear stories about his visits. Our neighborhood became affectionately known as “Stripesdom” to his regulars.
Stripes made his rounds twice a day — in the morning and in the evening. But after about five years, he suddenly had to be let out by 7:15 every morning, and he would meow and be uncharacteristically obnoxious until we did. Once the door was open, he would bolt from the house. Other times of the day, he was more flexible, but not in the morning. We chalked it up to his advancing years and becoming “set” in his ways. After about two years of this, he suddenly stopped. Finally, we could sleep in on Saturdays.
About six months later, I was working in the yard when a passerby saw Stripes sunning himself and asked, “Is that your cat?” I said yes, and she went on to tell me an amazing story about our beloved Stripes.
The lady lived about a block-and-a-half away from us. An elderly couple lived across the street from her. They had had a long and full life together traveling the globe and pursuing shared interests. One unfortunate evening, the man died. After a few weeks, the lady went to check on the widow. She said that she was doing all right, but the hardest part of the adjustment for her had been breakfast. Throughout their married life, no matter what their schedule, they always had coffee and read the paper together first thing in the morning. This was when she missed her husband the most. Yet, a couple of days after her husband died, this cat showed up in her breakfast nook window wanting to come in. She let him in and gave him some milk. He drank it, rubbed against her, began purring, and then curled up on her husband’s chair next to her. She stroked his fur while she read the paper. As soon as she put down the paper and stood up, he got down and went to the door to be let out.
Stripes visited the widow practically every day at 7:30 in the morning. The widow had come to love him and wait expectantly for him, giving him treats and milk with each visit. She was sure God had sent an angel in the form of a cat to comfort her in her darkest moments.
When I asked how the widow was, the lady told me that she had died about six months earlier. She had seen Stripes visit for a day or two afterwards, then he didn’t come anymore.
Another time, a woman on a playground told me how Stripes had come up to her daughter, who was sitting forlornly on a swing the day they lost a family pet. He had rubbed against her and then stood up, putting his paws on her legs and rubbing his head against her arm. Her daughter held and hugged him for quite a while. That little visit of his calmed the girl and gave her hope that maybe she could love another pet one day.
After we had Stripes almost fifteen years, we moved to another state. An elderly woman lived across the street from us. Stripes visited her daily, this time in the afternoon. She said she enjoyed how he would jump up in her lap and lie there for a while. Stripes was getting older himself at this point. About a year later, the arthritis in his hips meant he could no longer jump up, but he would still visit and lie near her feet so she could pet him.
Stripes was always affectionate with our family. But whenever anyone in the family was sick or sad, Stripes would lie by that person’s side for extended periods of time, lick a hand or head, and offer his fur for petting, frequently giving up some of his outside patrols. It seemed that Stripes felt it was his mission in life to seek out and comfort people who were hurting. He definitely had a sense for detecting people who needed emotional encouragement. Perhaps the widow had been right. Maybe there really was an angel living inside Stripes.
~Ann Joseph
