Meet Stella, the cat formally known as Taylor.

My last blog entry was dedicated to the memory of my beautiful Lucy Lu. There were many things I thought of afterward that I forgot to mention, like her gorgeous green eyes and how she loved to watch bird videos and TV. Among her favorite movies were Ice Age, Happy Feet, Toy Story and Life of Pi. She loved the Animal Planet as well as any TV commercial that included a cat. 

As I tried to convince myself that I didn’t think I could ever have a cat that I could train to be an RV warrior, I kept finding myself on animal shelter and rescue sites every night. I would tear up, looking at the sad faces of the older cats and then smile at the kittens who I knew would be adopted in a heartbeat. So, each night as I shut down my iPad, I said, “No. Nope. No way. No how. No cat.” 

For weeks, I watched You Tube videos about cats. All kinds of videos about funny cats, cat tricks, cat training, abandoned cats, shelter cats and old cats waiting to die in a cage because they are the most difficult to re-home. I knew I’d never get a kitten, because I wouldn’t want to worry about it outliving us. Lucy lived to 18, so I figured that an older cat would be perfect – already litterbox trained and in need of a warm lap, but I was not going to get a cat. 

Unwittingly (?), my next few weeks were filled with searching the NY area for cats and didn’t see any that tugged at my heart, so I began to search the FL shelters and came across a website called PetFinder. Well, if you are ever looking for a pet and could not find one on that site, I’d be shocked. 

During the holidays, PetSmart hosts a "Photo Op With Santa" fundraiser where any pet can be photographed sitting on Santa's lap. Some of the adoptable animals are photographed as well to help in their adoption process and Taylor was one of them. Fate was about to twist for Taylor once her photo was uploaded to the PetFinder site around Christmas 2019.

I had my search narrowed down to include only short-haired, adult or senior females. Not many popped up, but as I clicked on one after the other, I came across the photo of Taylor sitting on Santa’s lap. I continued looking through the short search, yet I returned several times to the photo of the cat with Santa and as I looked into her eyes, I could just imagine, if she were human, her wish. 

I inquired about Taylor and came to learn that she never had a “furever” home. She was a Manx/Tabby stray someone either trapped or turned into the Humane Society in Gadsden, Alabama in 2011 when she was about two-years old. She hadn’t been altered so the chances that she had already had a litter or two by that time are quite probable. Manx cats originated on the Isle of Mann, which is located off the coast of Scotland. The species genetically altered over hundreds of years to have no tail, or just a stub. They are shaped more like a rabbit when crouched and they tend to hop more than run. I can attest to the fact that Manx jump VERY high and run VERY fast. 

Her two other photos on Pet Finder above and below.

I’m not sure how she made it to a non-profit called, Aristocats, in Orange City, Florida, but she had been in a no-kill shelter and caged for about five years. Lucky for Taylor, in April of 2019, she found her way to the foster home of a nice woman named Jennifer. At her home, she was free to roam, but she chose to keep to herself. She didn’t care to pal around with the other cats or dogs, but if kittens arrived, she would take on a motherly role and hang out with them until, one by one, they became adopted or transferred to other foster homes. 

I give kudos to people like Jennifer who dedicate a tremendous amount of time, effort, and love to cats without homes. In addition to the everyday feeding and care of her fosters, she would bring a group of animals to PetSmart on Adoption Days and have the cages stacked. Of course, kittens went faster than older cats, so Taylor traveled back home with Jennifer each time. Jennifer told me that she had come to accept the fact that Taylor would never be adopted, and she had no problem with keeping her forever, but she would be just as happy if she could find her furever home.  

A few calls and several texts were exchanged between Jennifer and me, and plans were quickly put into place to meet. I placed a curb-side pick-up for essential items from the PetSmart where we were to make the exchange. We were all ready for a cat! Litter pan, scoop, litter, travel bag, bed, scratch boxes and a blanket filled the trunk. Jennifer snapped a photo of Taylor after loading her into the front seat of her truck. Taylor’s life was about to change - and so was ours. 

Last time in a cage! 

Jennifer said her goodbye to Taylor and I'm sure the moment was bittersweet. They had bonded, but Jennifer knew the best thing for Taylor was to go with us. 

Taylor did not like being in the carry bag at all during the ride back to the RV and once there, she was frightened of the new environment. She kept searching for a place to hide and, although the new place was strange, it did contain several great hiding spots. 

I knew from the start that the name Taylor would not survive the relationship. I had a couple of names picked out – Gracie and Rosie, but those were names I had considered for Lucy. Taylor deserved a name meant just for her. I texted a photo of her to several people, including my brother, Steve, and he asked me what I named her? I said I hadn’t decided, and he suggested, Stella. Right then and there, I knew she was a “Stella.” She is really a “Stella Bella,” which is Italian for “Beautiful Star.” 

In August, Stella made her first RV trip from Clermont, FL to Tampa, FL; which is about a two-hour ride. She didn’t like it at all. After a month, she took her next journey to New York that was close to 2,000 miles. By the last day of the four-plus-day trip, she had the routine down pat. We will be taking a three-hour trip soon to New Jersey and I hope she remembers these routines. 

Check out the photos below to see how we are all adjusting. Trust and love have sprouted and continue to grow stronger every day. Future entries about Stella adapting to life on the road will follow. 

I know cats don't have human thoughts and feelings, but I did come to realize what that cat sitting on Santa’s lap had wished for all her life – it was to be named Stella. 

Straight out of the bag into the RV for the first time.

Her favorite spot right from the start.

First day out on a leash. We like this treat.

I could have named her "Nosy Nellie!"

Not much goes on without her checking it out.

Allowing Dad to touch her! Major step. See, she's tailless.

The bond has solidified, and I think she has a preferred lap.

Just being bella. 

Ahhh. My favorite photo. Pure contentment.

Deep thought for the day: To be content doesn't mean you don't desire more, it means you're thankful for what you have and patient for what's to come." ~ Tony Gaskins

Lucy...the life, the laughs, the legend.

There were several occasions when I attempted to compose a blog entry to celebrate the life of Lucy, our 18-year-old and six-year traveling companion. Each time I sat at the keyboard my chest would tighten, my eyes would well with tears, and I’d shut down the program to try again another day.

Well, another day has arrived and instead of writing a sad, tear-jerking account of our 17 years together, I decided to just share some funny stories and photos of the cat who was lucky enough to be literally dumped on me when I was not looking for a pet. 

It began in May of 2003 when I agreed to babysit a young cat who was being abused. It was supposed to be for just six weeks, but events I won't bother to expand upon extended her stay to 17 years. 

She was almost one-year old when she arrived. I had never had a cat as a pet before, so what was to follow was going to be a new adventure for us both.  For the first two weeks, she would not allow me to "see" her. She hid under the stove whenever I was home and ventured out only when I went to work or slept. I knew she was alive from the evidence of food eaten and the presents she left me in the litter pan. It was going to take some planning and engineering for me to catch her out in the open and then block her entrance under the stove. I didn't want her hiding under there because I was unable to use the oven or broiler with her beneath the burner (old stove folks) I needed to outsmart her at her own game. 

My plan involved obtaining a large section of cardboard that I cut and folded into a tall, L-shape and had it at the ready to shove into place once I caught her unaware. The day finally came when I arrived home early and there she was – in the hallway! She would have needed to run past me to get under the stove, but I was able to quickly get that cardboard in place and block her hiding spot. 

Her eyes were as big as saucers, scared of me and this new place we both did not yet know was to be OUR home. She ran and hid under the chair, then under the bed, behind the radiator and finally under my dresser. I just let her be to adjust to this large and scary studio apartment.

I continued to feed her, scoop poop and talk to her as if she were an invisible baby. I made no outward attempts at being friends. She avoided me and I avoided her - afraid she might bite me. I figured this was only going to be for six weeks anyway; I could manage that! 

It took another couple of weeks for her to overcome some of her fear when she jumped up on my bed late one night and slowly crawled up onto my chest. She was just an inch from my face, my breath (when I was not holding it) was directly in her face. I remember prayers floating through my head, “Please God, don’t let her bite my face. Please God, don’t let her bite my face.” I must have repeated it a dozen times until I felt a little rumble on my chest as the sweet sound of a purr began to emit from this elusive cat. I eventually relaxed and believed my face was safe from getting bitten. I did not dare touch her. I was just grateful my prayer was answered.

The next evening, the same procedure occurred. This time, I slowly brought my hand up and stroked her fur and the purr got louder. I scratched under her chin and I thought there was a motorboat on my chest instead of a little cat.

Her original name was "Monroe" after Marilyn Monroe due to a black mark near her nose. I decided she was NOT a “Monroe,” so by the seventh week into my six-week babysitting stint, I booked an appointment with a vet and found out she was just a year old, an "American Short Hair/Tuxedo,"and was NOT altered. 

Once home and watching her recover from her surgery and paying a hefty vet bill, I declared myself entitled to change her name, I came up with a couple: Lucy, Gracie and Rosie. I ended up choosing Rosie. Funny thing though, was that every day when I came home from work, I would mimic Ricky Ricardo. from "I Love Lucy," and exclaim, “Lucy, I’m home!” My continuing to call out that greeting, caused her name to officially become Lucy.

Some of the little nicknames I had for Lucy, depending upon the situation were: Mommy's baby, Mommy's Girl, Lucifer, Missy Miss, Miss Priss and Mommy's sweatheart. 

The saying, “You don’t know what you’ve got ‘til it’s gone,” was only partially true, because I knew I had an amazingly smart and incredible cat. She was not destructive, she never bit anyone in her entire lifetime, she was every vet’s dream, and she never tried to escape the motor homes. She never flinched, fought or scratched while having any procedure performed. Basically, she was a scare-dy-cat, full of love, mostly just for her mommy and daddy. She received so much from us that she didn’t need it from others. She tolerated few people, among them, Meema Too and Uncle Charlie.

I knew that once she was gone, I would never have a cat that could come close to filling the emotional bond we had, or be as great an RV traveler as she, yet I knew I would, eventually, long for another companion to fill that furry hole in my heart.

Throughout our full-time cross-country travels, we indicate the states we visit on a US map on our door.  I was planning to put another one up to indicate all the states where Lucy had visited a veterinarian. They are listed throughout my blog, but off the top of my head, she visited one as far west as Coastal Oregon, as far east as Mystic, CT, as far north as Glenns Falls, NY and as far south as the Orlando area in Fl. I kept perfect health records that each vet appreciated having for reference. Lucy visited 32 states, saw three of the Great Lakes, the Pacific, Atlantic and Gulf of Mexico and even stayed on Disney World Property. 

Her traveling routine consisted of crawling into her open carry bag and staying there most of the trip. She came out to sit by us or eat, drink and even use the litter pan. She mastered how to do all those things at speeds up to 70 MPH. Watching her walk from the front to the back of the RV while on a major thoroughfare was comedic as she braced herself to match the sway of the RV. She would have made a terrific airline stewardess. At the end of each day on the road, we were all “home” and happily sharing "lap" time.

I had over 1,800 photos of Lucy, so in order not to bore you, I tried to narrow it down to some of my favorites that depicted her serenity, beauty and funny personality.

Top right is Lucy "tapping her paw" for dinner.

Some pretty poses. There's one with her helping me write a blog entry.

Time in baskets and bags. Top left was when she went to see a doctor. She was scared. 

You can see the difference in her eyes from all the other photos.

Time out with dad. Most times, Lucy loved to go out on the leash.

Lucy loved the Christmas tree, but loved knocking it over even more.

Family Photo. See her photo bomb in the background?

Loving shower time. One of her favorite past times. 

I accidentally shut the door behind her once.

Lucy's favorite appetizer - shrimp cocktail.

Just being beautiful.

Lucy loved "clean sheet"day.

Four of the homes we've lived in. Missing Verplanck and Peekskill.

Lucy went deaf in her last couple of years, yet she was intelligent enough to learn the sign language I had researched and taught her. I was excited with each sign she mastered, but the best was the “I love you” sign, because I really needed to communicate that every day.

Our last journey was a short one. Just about 7 miles, but as sad as it was to say goodbye to our sweet Lucy, I am happy she left us with so many funny and loving moments to cherish. A simple twist of fate back in 2003 made life for the three of us far better than it could ever have been imagined. Some moments of sadness remain, but no regrets. 

R.I.P. my sweet, one and only, legendary, Lucy Lu

Lucy Lu - June 2002-May 2020

Deep thought for the day:  Our pets: They give us the happiest hellos and the saddest goodbyes. But all the paw prints they leave on our hearts remain forever. ~ vc