BASTET THE FELINE GODDESS

Bastet came into my life in August 1998.

A neighbor of my brother’s had found her and given her to him the month before. At that time, my brother was a final-stage mess, and the only question was when he was going to arrive at the bad end he was headed for. It wasn’t his fault; the PTSD he got for being one our mother’s sons was too much for him. He hadn’t run away in time like I had. Fifteen months later, with a blood alchohol later calculated at 0.22, he drove onto the off-ramp of a very busy Interstate 5 and met an 18 wheeler coming off the freeway. But that was all in the future.

I was over once again helping him through the aftermath of another acting-out. I met Bastet. She clearly looked like she wasn’t getting the care she needed.

So I kidnaped her on the way out. Scooped her up and took her out to my car and brought her home. Once there, she ate two bowls of food in quick succession.

She made it clear she was happy to be out of his house. I had obviously done the right thing.

It took Bastet over a year to become “one of the crowd,” and during that time she became “my kitty” as she lived in the writing office.

She eventually found her courage, walked out of the room and never looked back as she took her place with the other kitties. And they recognized her as a member of the clan.

She was always a sweetheart and loved to sleep under the covers.

She crossed the Rainbow Bridge sixteen years to the week from the day she came into my life. A sweet little lady who always kept her own counsel.

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