Patience
-Helen Morrison
Board President
Patience has always been a difficult practice to call upon, at least for me. There are certainly particular public times that call for a lot of patience...like now...wearing masks, social-distancing, to protect ourselves and those we love, and those we don’t love. There is patience in waiting for our turn for vaccinations. Maybe there is a difference between patience and waiting...because I think patience implies hope. There are those turning points we know for sure are going to happen, like Sunrise or Spring. We long for Spring, we hope for it. We even get so we want it now, and then aren’t paying attention to the real “now”. But for things we know are going to happen for sure, and they can’t come soon enough, there are these wonderful little changes that herald what we wish for...the change in the chickadees’ song as their bodies begin to get ready for the Spring. The increasing strength of the sun and how it sparkles through the icicles hanging from the eaves and frees the drops to fall in a little flash of light. Those help us in the now, while we wish for the inevitable coming of Spring.
And there are those challenges to patience, not knowing an outcome, doing the best we can for the greater good, maybe the collective change of heart. We don’t just wait. We take the actions we are able to take for change...and then we practice patience...always entering back into action when appropriate...but being patient and hopeful. Of course, outcomes can’t be controlled. Life is too wonderfully unpredictable for that. And we can get bogged down in trying to control, and then things don’t take the course that is for the good.
Being so all consumed with the Shelter and the precious cats we tend, their journeys, this contemplation of patience leads me to think about all the cats who have needed exceptional patience and hope, the cats that would be viewed by some as too much of a challenge. Many folk who adopt a furry being want one that is “good” from the start...friendly, wanting to sit in a lap, healthy, chill, playful. And that is understandable. But there is always the unknown...a cat or kitten that seems totally healthy...and then something unexpected and scary happens. And we have to act, get the best information, a plan of treatment, and then be patient for the outcome, whatever that is.
And then...there are those very sweet cats and kittens that we take in that definitely need understanding and patience, because they are not well socialized, don’t trust humans yet. And there are those we bring into our care who need the patience of end of life care.
And so, this newsletter is dedicated to those “special needs” kitties who have needed time and patience, to begin to trust while still being allowed to be who they are.
Enjoy reading these very special stories. There is Norm, a KAS supporter, who took in two very rambunctious tabby boys, and his humorous journey with them. There is Buddy, whom the adopter knew was in his end-of-life and took him in with love and patience. Their journey is in “What Buddy Taught Me”. There is Jack and Silver in “You Can’t Rush a Sunrise”, by our volunteer, Jeff Pratt. And there is Cinco and his 16 year journey to love. All of these are about the patience with what life demands, asks for, when life is at its best.
-Helen Morrison
Board President
Patience has always been a difficult practice to call upon, at least for me. There are certainly particular public times that call for a lot of patience...like now...wearing masks, social-distancing, to protect ourselves and those we love, and those we don’t love. There is patience in waiting for our turn for vaccinations. Maybe there is a difference between patience and waiting...because I think patience implies hope. There are those turning points we know for sure are going to happen, like Sunrise or Spring. We long for Spring, we hope for it. We even get so we want it now, and then aren’t paying attention to the real “now”. But for things we know are going to happen for sure, and they can’t come soon enough, there are these wonderful little changes that herald what we wish for...the change in the chickadees’ song as their bodies begin to get ready for the Spring. The increasing strength of the sun and how it sparkles through the icicles hanging from the eaves and frees the drops to fall in a little flash of light. Those help us in the now, while we wish for the inevitable coming of Spring.
And there are those challenges to patience, not knowing an outcome, doing the best we can for the greater good, maybe the collective change of heart. We don’t just wait. We take the actions we are able to take for change...and then we practice patience...always entering back into action when appropriate...but being patient and hopeful. Of course, outcomes can’t be controlled. Life is too wonderfully unpredictable for that. And we can get bogged down in trying to control, and then things don’t take the course that is for the good.
Being so all consumed with the Shelter and the precious cats we tend, their journeys, this contemplation of patience leads me to think about all the cats who have needed exceptional patience and hope, the cats that would be viewed by some as too much of a challenge. Many folk who adopt a furry being want one that is “good” from the start...friendly, wanting to sit in a lap, healthy, chill, playful. And that is understandable. But there is always the unknown...a cat or kitten that seems totally healthy...and then something unexpected and scary happens. And we have to act, get the best information, a plan of treatment, and then be patient for the outcome, whatever that is.
And then...there are those very sweet cats and kittens that we take in that definitely need understanding and patience, because they are not well socialized, don’t trust humans yet. And there are those we bring into our care who need the patience of end of life care.
And so, this newsletter is dedicated to those “special needs” kitties who have needed time and patience, to begin to trust while still being allowed to be who they are.
Enjoy reading these very special stories. There is Norm, a KAS supporter, who took in two very rambunctious tabby boys, and his humorous journey with them. There is Buddy, whom the adopter knew was in his end-of-life and took him in with love and patience. Their journey is in “What Buddy Taught Me”. There is Jack and Silver in “You Can’t Rush a Sunrise”, by our volunteer, Jeff Pratt. And there is Cinco and his 16 year journey to love. All of these are about the patience with what life demands, asks for, when life is at its best.