Right now they are snuggled up, Charger stretched out on our bed and Glory nestled leaning against him, her head on his broad back. We would never have believed this could happen a year ago…

We had gotten Glory, a retired Bengal queen, the year before. As we were both working and the boys were in school, we did not always have enough time for our 3 cats. Glory, who fought with Panther and Jennifur, lived in her own territory, our master bedroom. Often she seemed lonely and would call for a cat friend.

It wasn’t just Glory who wanted a friend. Each of our three cats had adopted a human in our family, and I was feeling cat-less. That is, I got to feed, water and clean litter boxes, but no cuddling or play time, nor even a cat sleeping near me.

On my birthday, David saw an ad for a “Bengal cat male 1 1/4 years $90.00″. He called the woman who was selling the cat and we went the next day.

Gorgeous green eyes, beautiful brown spots and that Bengal striped tail combined with a powerful feline physique. The biggest domestic cat I had ever seen — and he played, pounced, purred. The mother of the young woman whose cat he had been clearly did not want this large cat playing with her petite cat and dog.

I talked with the cat, describing our family, and asked if he would want to join our family. Somewhat hesitantly he said yes. He felt unwanted and was keenly aware of being disliked. I also talked to our cats at home about Charger and his desire for a home where he was wanted and liked. I started by asking his real name. Charger was named by his mother and he wanted to keep that name. I even managed to find time to talk that night to my husband and younger son

Yes, I am what others call an animal communicator. More on that topic will appear in another article soon.

Having brought the cat carrier with us, we made our arrangements with the woman and brought Charger home, talking to him during the hour-long trip. Meow! Are we there yet? Will there be food? Can I have my own place to sleep? Can I meet the other (cats)? Will you lock the door?

Once again, we had rescued a cat from an environment where he was not wanted, to give him love and acceptance instead. And Charger is quite a sight when he gallops around our home .

Charger has taught me to be playful, calm, and to take some time to enjoy life, not just live it.

Our first cat came to us at a time when I was working at an office. After I came home from work one day, David and the boys said, “you must leave work early tomorrow so we can take you to see this cat at the county shelter!”

So I did and we did.

In one cage was a chocolate black cat with white ear tufts and green eyes who meowed vigorously, and sniffed and pawed our fingers when we put them up to the bars. He let us stroke him through the bars. Eyes and ears looked fine. No drool. Nice white teeth. Alert and ears forward. So far, so good.

We asked to have him let out so we could hold him. He stayed on the counter for a few seconds and then jumped and hid under a table. The attendant got him out. Scott held him and we admired him, while I performed a brief external physical exam. After we asked about his history (found wandering, no collar, no ID chip, neutered, no rabies, ticks or known diseases), we asked for the adoption contract. The person helping us said she was very happy that an older cat was going to a good home.

The veterinarian gave him a clean bill of health and age estimate of 2 to 4 years.

We bought the basics: the same food he was fed in the shelter, two steel bowls: one for food, other for water. A litter box and litter.

Once released into the family room, Panther raced around and promptly hid under the comfy chair. There he stayed for most of 4 days, coming out only to eat, drink or use the litter box. We put all three necessities near the chair and very gradually moved them a little further away every 2 days. We talked to him in soothing voices. We petted him while he was under the chair and were rewarded with a few tentative purrs. On the fifth day, we actually saw our cat!

Over the next 6 months it became evident that Panther had been abused. He cringed if he saw a newspaper, stick, broom or pillow being moved or even held. He crouched and ran for his life if he passed through the kitchen while we ate. The vacuum cleaner noise terrified him.

It has taken much patience on both sides. Three years later, Panther sleeps wherever he wants, purrs loudly when stroked, plays with Jennifur, stands up to Charger in mock “boxing matches”, and will visit us while we eat to see if there are any interesting tidbits of turkey or chicken we would share with him.

Panther has taught us to relax, meditate, and most important of all, to have patience.