Hello readers! My name is Maggie. You may recognize me as the gorgeous kitty from my mummy’s Facebook pic, but just in case, this is me:
Since Mummy is feeling poorly I have decided to take the initiative and write this week’s Sand vs. Machinery for her. Aren’t I sweet?
You may have noticed (if you weren’t too distracted by my bright eyes and the fact that I can type and access the internet) that I am a black kitty . Mummy sometimes refers to me as her sweet little blackberry muffin, along with the dozens of other cute nicknames she has for me.
I was a very tiny kitten when I turned up on Mummy’s sister’s boyfriend’s doorstep. Auntie Missy told Mummy about me and a short while later I went to live with her. She loved me instantly, of course. And she made sure I had the best quality cat food, plenty of clean water and lots of toys and snuggles.
I was a saucy kitten, sticking my tongue out
I don’t remember how a helpless (yet plucky) wee kitten like myself ended up in the street all alone, forced to cry outside a strange door to be let in out of the cold. But I once overheard my daddy say it may have been because of my hair colour, a fact which baffles me and breaks my mummy’s heart.
She says the day she brought me home was one of the luckiest days of her life, but black cats have long been considered unlucky or even evil omens in certain cultures. Some say that if a black cat crosses your path on a journey, the only safe thing to do is to turn around and go home. Old European folklore says that we were shape shifters in league with someone called Satan. We’re also said to be the top choice of witches as familiars, which confuses me because mummy says witches aren’t evil.
Historically, lots of black cats have been killed by humans in the name of this Satan or other kinds of dark magic. I won’t go into detail because you might cry.
Not long after Mummy took me in, I was roaming the hallway outside my first apartment when a neighbour came out of the elevator. I liked meeting new people so I went up to her to say hello and she backed away from me like I was some kind of monster. And she said to Mummy, who was keeping an eye on me, that she was “freaked out” by black cats. Mummy frowned and snapped “bloody hell, she weighs all of three pounds and you’re scared of her?” She then swooped me up and took me inside for a treat but I could tell she was upset by the neighbour lady’s ignorance.
Even though most people are no longer silly enough to believe in such superstitions, the sad reality is there is still a prejudice against cats like me. Animal shelters have a harder time adopting out black cats than any other colour.
Fortunately, some nice people are trying to change that. There are lots of lovely black cats waiting for good homes, some are almost as exquisite as me:
A lot of shelters won’t adopt out black cats too close to Halloween for fear that we’ll be hurt or killed in rituals by mean people, but Halloween is over so if you’re thinking of bringing a cat into your home, remember: black is beautiful. Black cats are often very shiny and soft, and we have an aura of mystery about us. Also our hair color tends to make our eyes “pop.”
Some old-timey funny man named Groucho Marx once said, “A black cat crossing your path signifies that the animal is going somewhere.” If only we could all be so sensible.
The time has come for you humans to get past this prejudice and worship embrace all kitties for the wonderful, superior beings we are.
About the Author: Maggie Muffincakes has spent a good deal of her ten years on this planet sitting on her mummy’s lap, watching her type away at her computer, whether she was writing this very blog, working on her yet-to-be-sold novel or making very important points about Harry Potter in chat rooms. But Mummy had no idea how closely her darling kitty-cat was paying attention.
In her spare time Maggie enjoys napping, being petted and admired and the occasional bit of catnip. She lives in Toronto with Mummy and her little brother Pip.
Awww! I had a black cat growing up, and last year my son rescued a mostly black cat (she has a little white spot on her neck) in our neighborhood. In England I’m told that black cats are considered good luck.