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Purr Therapy

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Purr Therapy by Kathy McCoy is a delightful book about therapy cats. McCoy talks about her experience and how Timmy helped her in her practice to help facilitate healing in her patients. I have heard about therapy dogs, but never have heard about therapy cats.

I own cat. You have read about Nicholas in my blog many times. Since I have been sick he has been a faithful, loving, and respectful companion for me. I have never been a cat person. I have always loved dogs. I still want a dog. I hope to accomplish this dream someday. For now, I have a cat. I love Nicholas. I wouldn’t trade him for anything.

I met Nicholas 4 years ago when my niece found him and his sisters abandoned in the field behind their house. I had been thinking about getting a pet. I wanted a dog, but I also knew that with my health being the way it is. I wouldn’t be able to take proper care of a dog. I met Nicholas and decided he was going to be my cat. My niece was excited.

Nicholas has been through every obstacle with me. When we first met I didn’t have a trach, and after coming home with a trach. It took him a bit to get used to me sounding funny. He thought I was hissing at him. I wasn’t. He adjusted though and is not afraid of my noisy throat anymore. I can always count on him. He knows my health is not great and so he sleeps at the corner of my bed like a guard dog. We have been through a lot together. In a sense, I could consider him my therapy cat. I love the way he grabs my hand when it is cuddle time. Or how he sniffs my throat knowing that I am having a painful day with my stoma. He just knows. I also love that he is clever with the ability to open a sliding glass door on his own. Or how he can jump up and catch and eat a moth in midair.

So ready Purr Therapy felt like me saying oh I know those moments. I am not looking forward to when Nicholas will no longer be with me. I felt McCoy’s heart break when Timmy and Marina passed away. But I am thankful she still has Maggie and Gus to sooth her. I recommend this book to those of us who have cats and they are our companions and sooth us. Because not only does McCoy tell the story of her cats, but she also shares the wisdom is has learned from watching them connect with other cats and humans. I like that.

3 Responses so far.

  1. Kathy McCoy says:

    Thank you so much for the lovely review of Purr Therapy, Jamie! Yes, our animals are with us in all the ups and downs of life and are a particular comfort when we’re ill. I’m so glad you have had Nicholas as a companion through your current health challenges. It does make such a difference.

    And with our beloved cats — and dogs — we learn so much about navigating life’s inevitabilities. Just before Purr Therapy was published, I lost my beloved Gus to cancer at the age of 16. He was wonderful to the end and I’ll never stop missing him, as I’ll always miss his brother Timmy and the lovely Marina. But we learn to deal with loss and live on.

    Recently, while in Los Angeles for book signings at Barnes and Noble and at an animal fundraiser called Catoberfest, I met a little kitten who was cruelly mutilated right after birth and thrown into a garbage can. He was rescued by a passerby and ended up at Forgotten Angeles, He is now 8 weeks old, missing his right rear leg and with a huge hernia that will need surgery when he’s a little bigger and stronger. But he is a sweetheart. I brought him home with me and am delighted to see him running around with joy and miraculous kitten energy, getting to know my surviving cats Maggie, Sweet Pea and Hamish. So the story goes on, with new animals welcomed and those who have become memories cherished forever.

  2. Linea Elken says:

    I’ve had cats ever since I was 9 years old, so nearly 60 years now. Mitzie was my first cat & I’ve always said that she was my true mother because she actually cared about me. When I started my periods & had bad cramps every few months, I’d lie on my back in bed & she would lie on my lower abdomen & purr & keep a watchful eye on me; it was like having a vibrating heating pad there. If I wanted her to come to me & she wasn’t all that interested, all I had to do was to pretend to cry & she would come running.

    Mr. Cat came home one day in 1979 & despite my discouragement he chose to stay with me until his death 14 years later. We went through so many things together & he truly was my therapy cat. He understood English & could communicate so that I understood him, so when he told me one morning that he was dying & I should prepare myself, I knew it was true. He was diagnosed with lymphosarcoma primary site liver that had metastasized to his spine. When my girlfriend was trying to give him a pill one day, she told him that it would prolong his life & he refused to ever take another one. I’d told him I’d be with him at the end & I was honored to keep that promise to him.

    I now have 3 cats with very different personalities & special needs. Henry the Scamp makes me laugh at his antics; Sophie makes me want to purr with her while giving her lovies; & Flopsy is the one who is disabled to the point that I need to hold her while I feed her & while she potties. She snuggles into me & purrs & drools until she falls asleep & I feel so much peace & calm radiating from her. Whenever I’m feeling down, one of them cheers me up with their unique styles.

    I loved reading this blog entry, Jamie; it touches me where I live. Thank you for sharing Nicholas with us!

  3. Linea Elken says:

    I keep getting error messages when I try to post this comment:

    I’ve had cats ever since I was 9 years old, so nearly 60 years now. Mitzie was my first cat & I’ve always said that she was my true mother because she actually cared about me. When I started my periods & had bad cramps every few months, I’d lie on my back in bed & she would lie on my lower abdomen & purr & keep a watchful eye on me; it was like having a vibrating heating pad there. If I wanted her to come to me & she wasn’t all that interested, all I had to do was to pretend to cry & she would come running.

    Mr. Cat came home one day in 1979 & despite my discouragement he chose to stay with me until his death 14 years later. We went through so many things together & he truly was my therapy cat. He understood English & could communicate so that I understood him, so when he told me one morning that he was dying & I should prepare myself, I knew it was true. He was diagnosed with lymphosarcoma primary site liver that had metastasized to his spine. When my girlfriend was trying to give him a pill one day, she told him that it would prolong his life & he refused to ever take another one. I’d told him I’d be with him at the end & I was honored to keep that promise to him.

    I now have 3 cats with very different personalities & special needs. Henry the Scamp makes me laugh at his antics; Sophie makes me want to purr with her while giving her lovies; & Flopsy is the one who is disabled to the point that I need to hold her while I feed her & while she potties. She snuggles into me & purrs & drools until she falls asleep & I feel so much peace & calm radiating from her. Whenever I’m feeling down, one of them cheers me up with their unique styles.

    I loved reading this blog entry, Jamie; it touches me where I live. Thank you for sharing Nicholas with us!

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