Rediscovering my Inner Cat Mom

One cat at a time

Nancy Parish
6 min readAug 15, 2021


Photo by Avel Chuklanov on Unsplash

I like cats.

Growing up, I collected every manner of cat book, statue, plush animal — basically anything I could find that had a cat on it. I even brought my collection of cat stuff to my school’s hobby show in the third grade. I didn’t win anything for my efforts — not even an honorable mention. Some girl who brought her grandfather’s coin collection won first place. That girl cheated. After all, those weren’t her coins. Still, I loved my cat stuff.

We adopted an actual cat when I was in the fourth grade. My brother rescued him from a tree in our neighborhood. We named him Dusty, and he lived to be thirteen years old. I was a senior in college when he died. I cried when my parents gave me the news.

A cat for Christmas

Losing Dusty marked the start of the longest period in my adult life that I didn’t keep a cat. I was busy feeling my way through adulthood and failing at one job after another, so adopting a cat hadn’t occurred to me. In fact, for many years, I didn’t think about cats at all. That was strange because I loved them so much growing up.

One cold and snowy Christmas Day, my family gathered at my parent’s house for the holidays. A…



Nancy Parish

Amateur Cat Herder. Previously, Contributing Editor for CWIM. My ebook Life with Scout: The Blind Kitty Chronicles avail.