Emma Donna M. Garfield

Donna M. Garfield - Lyndon, VT

Crash! I open my eyes and look at my watch. It is 2:25 a.m. I already know the cause of the crash but turn over anyway. There on the small chest of drawers beside the bed is Emma. She sits there and looks at me as if to say, “I didn’t hear anything.” Right. The little imp has just pushed my stack of 10 paperbacks onto the floor and is now sitting there looking innocent and nonplussed.

Emma is our 13-year-old cat and she delights us every day. Pushing paperbacks off the stand is just one of the things she does to get attention.

Emma came into our lives in October 2009. We had lost a cat in July of the same year and we were devastated. Amidst all the tears, my husband said we wouldn’t be getting any more cats. Even though we always had a cat or cats, it was too hard on us when the last one died. We walked around for months thinking we saw him coming into the room or his tail disappearing around a corner. It just went on and on. I knew my husband meant well, but there was just no way I could live without a cat.

One of my co-workers was watching me go through my grief and said she had a cat at home who was about four months old that she would love to bring to me. She had barn cats but some of them were more domesticated than others, and there was one special one she felt belonged to me. I kept telling her no. Then one day in October she was bringing kittens in for some of her friends and at the last minute put Emma in the car, too.

I knew I was in trouble. I picked up Emma and she snuggled into my neck and, well, you all know I immediately fell in love with her. She was a dark gray tiger with white under her nose and around her mouth. She had a beautiful gold color on her belly (befitting a princess of course).

I called my husband to tell him I would be bringing home a cat. He wasn’t very happy as he thought we had agreed not to have any more. Well, actually we didn’t agree, because at the right time I knew we would have one. I finally said to him, “If God is sending us a cat, who are we to send the cat away?” (I think it was in my wedding vows that I would always have a cat but my husband must have forgotten about that line in the ceremony!)

So at the end of the day, Emma and I headed home and she and my husband, Reed, met for the first time.

The next morning I left for work and Emma stayed home with Reed who was retired. Over the course of the next several weeks, I received emails with pictures of Emma sleeping in Reed’s desk drawer on a fluffy towel he had placed there for her, sprawled across his keyboard as he was trying to work, or laying on the Morse Code keyer as he was trying to

use his ham radio. It was clear they were becoming fast friends.

Emma loved me but she was truly Reed’s buddy. During the evening, she would make her way over to him in the recliner, climb into his arms, and just rest there with what looked like a satisfied smile on her face.

When I retired 10 years later, Emma was not quite prepared for the change in our household. She was used to me leaving the house at 8:00 a.m. and watching the car go down the driveway. Now I didn’t do that. She would sit near the closet as if to say, “Why aren’t you putting your coat on? You’re going to be late.” She was also used to sitting in our picture window at about 5:20 each night waiting for my car to pull into the driveway. Another change she didn’t understand.

Finally, she accepted the fact that I was going to be home every day, and she wasn’t going to get rid of me. Her habits changed and she liked having the three of us in the same room. In the evening we would watch the news or a show and she would snooze on her favorite fluffy blanket on the couch. However, if one of us left the room to go to the den to work on the computer, she would immediately wake up and go to the den to check on us. Then back to the living room to check on the other one. Sometimes she just laid down in the hallway so that she knew where both of us were stationed.

Over the years, we never had a cat who chewed paper. Emma was the first and how she loves paper! She loves boxes, too, and when they come in the mail, she is right there with us when it is being opened. Then she jumps in the box no matter the size and chews on the paper if there is any.

Emma was never a cat that purred very much. She also didn’t like people visiting and would go hide in another room. I think it was because it was just the three of us living here all the time and she just wasn’t used to the extra noise. Then about a year ago, she started greeting people as they came up our stairs. Her purring became louder and louder and when we spoke to her, she would answer with a meow. Quite a personality change but one that we greatly enjoy.

I cannot imagine life without a cat. They all have their own personalities. Emma is aware of everything going on in the house. I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Donna Garfield is a free-lance writer and photographer. She has been writing for "The North Star Monthly" (produced and published by Northstar Publishing LLC of Danville, VT) since 2009. Donna was a feature writer for many years concentrating on stories of people living in the Northeast Kingdom of VT. She currently writes a monthly column entitled "Life's a Journey". Donna lives in Lyndon, VT, with her husband, Reed, and their cat, Emma. Her photos have appeared in various publications.

Emma