relationships

Adventures with Elaina

When I attended the Creative Writing Workshop at the Paris American Academy a few years ago, I learned about the craft of writing. One of our teachers—Rolf Potts—offered lots of practical writing advice that stuck with me. His thoughts on travel writing, journaling, and memoir have been particularly helpful. Regarding memoir Potts said, “Memoir isn’t non-fiction. It is fiction because it isn’t reported journalism.”

I agree with Rolf because my memory is terrible. That’s why I’m obsessed with journaling and recording my days in my logbook. Journaling about my daily life is important because it gives me a sense of what’s happened in a typical week, a month, and over the course of the year. When I revisit my old journal entries, I'm able to coalesce themes and collect story ideas. Then I use the ideas for non-fiction articles, micro-memoirs, memoir style essays, and books.

Recently, I’ve been thinking about how our cat Elaina came into our lives. I couldn’t remember all the details, and since my old journals are long gone, I couldn't use them as a source. Instead, I asked my husband, Logan, about his kitty adoption memories.

Here's a portion of the conversation we had last weekend:

“Did I lobby you for another cat after we got Christie?” I asked.

“Ohh yeah,” Logan said.

“Really?” I said.

“You lobbied for a cat before Christie, and you lobbied for another cat after we adopted Christie. And I thought it was going to continue on until we had a house full of cats,” Logan said.

I laughed because my memories of these shenanigans are fuzzy. Apparently, I really wanted a second cat. I was in luck because another kitten was about to come into our lives.

Stacy—a veterinarian student and our neighbor—found a litter of kittens in a cardboard box on the side of the road. She took the kittens home, made sure that their health was stable, and decided to foster them. And of course, I went to visit the kittens!

I fell in love with a small kitten named Alien. Stacy named the kitten Alien because her eyes were giant, and she looked like a cartoon cat. Alien was so wee that her body fit in the palm of my hand. She was all eyes, and she was snugly and sweet. Naturally, I told Logan about Alien when he got home from work.

After I brought Christie home, I promised Logan that I would not adopt another cat without him. We’d make the decision together. I convinced Logan to visit Stacy’s foster kittens. When we walked to her apartment, I lobbied hard to adopt Alien because "poor lonely Christie needed a friend."

Logan said, “I remember when we went over to Stacy’s apartment. Kittens were running around everywhere. They were climbing up the drapes, and another two were racing along the backside of the couch like little maniacs. I couldn't keep track of all the fuzzy little bodies. Alien walked over to you for a pet, and then she decided to come visit me. She subsequently fell asleep on my chest.”

“And then, you looked at me and nodded. I knew that we were going to take Alien home. You are such a sucker. I love you for that!” I said.

***

Alien was quickly renamed Elaina. I don’t know where the name Elaina came from, but it suited our new buddy.

Elaina explored our home in under one hour. She was a tiny detective. It took Christie weeks to feel safe enough to explore the bedrooms, kitchen, living room, closets, and bathroom. Christie was a skittish little kitten, not Elaina though.

Elaina exuded confidence, despite her wee size. She was so tiny that we made a special collar for her. Part of the collar retrofit included adding a bell. I almost stepped on Elaina a few times and was terrified that she’d get hurt. The bell was perfect because when Elaina wasn’t sleeping, we could hear her moving around the apartment.

Eventually, Elaina outgrew her small collar. Tiny—as we liked to call her—was anything but tiny. She was double the size of Christie the Cat. Elaina would beg for ice cream, treats, and eat all her kibble in one sitting. At one-point Elaina was so chubby, she couldn't clean her backside. That's a serious problem for a cat, and subsequently she went on a diet with timed feedings. I felt like a terrible cat parent! I shouldn’t have been giving Elaina so many treats. Plus, our veterinary told us not to free feed our cats, and we followed her advice. Thankfully, she slimmed down quickly.

Elaina loved living with us in rural Siskiyou County. She stalked lizards and mice, rolled in the dirt, flirted with fawns, befriended the neighbor dog, got stuck in trees, and followed up her activities by bringing dust into the house. We couldn’t resist her personality and snuggles. Elaina was a loving companion and adapted to all the different living situations we had over the years. Alas, Elaina and Christie were not best friends, like I hoped, but they tolerated one another well.

Elaina was diagnosed with cancer on January 26, 2018, and she died on October 25, 2018. Elaina’s death was hard to accept. But I’m thankful we had a long goodbye. We miss her snuggles, her meows, her big beautiful eyes, and her courageous nature.

Over the years, I took thousands of photos of Elaina. She would stare at the camera and pose for me. I'm grateful for the shots because they bring back good memories. Plus, the photos help me recall stories that I would have forgotten. My stories about Elaina might be slightly fictionalized, and that’s okay. Memoir isn’t non-fiction. But I don't need to write a journalistic article to show how much joy Elaina brought into our lives.

PS: Browse my favorites shots of Elaina the “tiny” cat here.

With gratitude,

Tammy

A Talisman for Paris

Yesterday, I walked to the post office to mail a note to my friend Shanna, and while I was there, I decided to check my P.O. Box. When I opened my box, there was a small silver package tucked inside, and I chuckled when I saw that the package was from Shanna. Talk about serendipity! We're definitely on the same wavelength.

When I opened the package, I didn’t see anything inside, so I sent Shanna a photo of the parcel via text message and said:

Hi friend! Just went to the post office to mail you a card & found a package from you. There was nothing in it? Xoxo. 

My intuition was screaming—do not throw this little package away. Dig deeper.

Shanna wrote me back immediately and a text message exchange ensued.

The mailer was double folded, and the gift was tucked inside tightly. I’m glad that I didn’t throw the package away because I would have been sad.

The parcel contained a lovely note and gorgeous necklace with a tiny Eiffel Tower encased in glass. Shanna told me to think of the necklace as a “. . . talisman, a good luck charm, a portent of things to come."

As I read Shanna’s note I started to happy-cry in the post office, and the tears continued to flow in the local drug store (I had to swing by for 3x5 cards). My tears garnered funny looks from fellow patrons, and that’s okay. They didn’t know about my thoughtful friend.

Physical gifts are lovely, but they aren’t a required part of friendship. Strong listening skills, compassion, and empathy are must haves—and Shanna has all of those things and more. She sees me, and still wants to be my friend.

In The Kindness Diaries Leon Logothetis said, "We just have to be willing to see each other. I see you, and you see me. Then the masks of who we think we should be fall away. And we greet one another in ways that need no language, that require no masks. We set out on the journey of life, getting to partake in this brief but beautiful adventure together."

With gratitude,

Tammy