Old

February is for quiet things. Not that it’s been particularly quiet and mostly in a good way, but I’m still in winter nesting mode. Going out, apart from mooching in the woods near our house, is an effort. It’s the old fashioned things I need – reading, walking, chatting with friends (mostly on Whatsapp to avoid going out), knitting (very badly) and writing my new book (also quite badly at times, but let’s see…)

Another reason I don’t want to go out is our new rescue cat.

Oliver, our beautiful black and white boy, had to be put down 18 months ago. It broke our hearts. He was a bit of a grumpy git in a way but full of character and we’d had him from beloved friends since kittenhood.

No more cats, said my husband. I thought I could probably bring him round but the question was when. Occasionally I dropped it subtly into the conversation.

Me: Jess has a new cat!

Him: That’s nice

Me: He’s from the cat shelter and such a sweetheart

Him: Great. Shall I put the kettle on?

Then our friend, and lovely former cat sitter, sent me some photos. She said she knew Steve didn’t really want another cat but this one was special. She’d belonged to a friend of hers who had died and the cat was now with up for rehoming at the Cats’ Protection League. These were the photos: –

Well, what would you have done? I sent them to my husband.

He was charmed. He thought her beautiful. He liked the fact our cat sitter knew her history. Also, that she was 11 and not a young cat. And those ears…

The cat is called Hazel, the name of the main protagonist in my first novel. Co-incidence? Maybe. It’s quite an unusual name though isn’t it? I think it was a sign.

So we rang the Cats’ Protection League, arranged to visit and later that week, drove over to meet her. What amazing work the CPL do! I don’t know what I was expecting – maybe a large shed with lots of cats in cages and a woman with a clipboard? Well…

It was so not like that. The building was large and modern. The reception buzzed with purpose and activity – people on computers, others on the phone. One or two pushed their way through large swing doors into a long light corridor lined with windows. Behind the windows were cats, all in their own quite spacious areas. At least, bigger than I’d imagined.

These people really love cats. And they’re so professional. We were interviewed to make sure we were a suitable match for Hazel. We filled in forms. We were advised of the medical treatment she’d received there, of her needs, her diet. They even emailed us a couple of weeks later to see how it was going.

We had weighted up the pros and cons of having another cat.

Pros: Cats are furry, good company, they give us a focus outside ourselves, good for mental health, we love cats

Cons: They are expensive, require care when we’re away, are time consuming, you worry about their safety, they can get lost or killed, they grow old and get sick, they die, you are bereft.

Hm. When we met Hazel, the cons fled from our minds as if they couldn’t leg it fast enough. Instead we marvelled at her unusual markings, her curiosity, her affectionate nature. The decision didn’t take long.

Why do this when there are so many cons?

The answer, I suspect, is as old as the universe; some say older. We continue to give our hearts away despite the downside. We long for connection, affection, purpose. We invest.

It’s said that the priest, Valentine – single, celibate – after whom this day is named, secretly married persecuted Christians under the reign of Emperor Claudius. He cut hearts from parchment to remind people how much God loved them. After he was arrested, he successfully prayed for healing for his jailer’s blind daughter and sent her a note from prison signed Your Valentine.

The international day of love started not as a trumpet call to romance, but a whispered sacrament, a message, a prayer. It held purpose, a desire to help and to heal. There are many ways to give your heart away.

Valentine was martyred on 14th February 269. So this weekend, (people have birthday weekends so I don’t see why he shouldn’t have a deathday one), I’ll do quiet things – walk, read, pray. We’ll take my mother in law out to lunch. I’ll cuddle Hazel and cook something special for my husband and send messages to people I love. Then on Sunday I’ll sing very loudly in church – mostly because I’m deaf, but that’s not the only reason.

I’ll be rejoicing in the oldest force in the universe which is there all year round, not just on Valentine’s Day.

Thank you for reading. If you’d like to find out about the real Hazel, well, real to me, you can find out more about my first book, Braver, here

You can find out about my other books here