Of magic and cats

 

My desk mementoes include a stuffed knit cat (forefront) made by my friend Linda. My grandniece got another one, and thereby lies a tale.

Several years ago, my friend Linda was knitting little stuffed cats – three inches tall, with cunning little tails that curled up or curled down – and giving them away as gifts. Mine, which lives on my desk with other mementoes, is green, white, and blue stripes, with orange eyes and tail-tip.

One of the other recipients was my grandniece Emi, now 8, who I recently learned had a sad story concerning her cat. Apparently, she’d become extremely attached to it – her mom said it was the perfect size to carry around in her jacket and backpack, and it kept her company wherever she went. But one day the cat disappeared on the school bus and couldn’t be found.

Emi, whose world view includes the real potential of magic, thought that might be the solution. Every so often, her mom said, she’d ask whether “magical characters” might be able to find her cat.  Then with Christmas approaching, she seized on another possibility. Could Santa (who after all can fly all over the world distributing presents to every girl and boy) find the kitty and bring it back?

Well, he missed his chance at Christmas, but when Emi’s mom told me the story, I passed it on to Linda.

 “But I have cats!” she said. “I made some extra who never found homes and just tucked them away. I can give both Emi and her sister their own cats!”

The news made Emi’s day, her mom reported. Not only does she get a cat, but now she knows for sure that magical characters (who knit tiny cats) do exist.

Linda's extra cats – one tail up, one tail down – will go to Emi and her sister.