Update on Ada Mae

by tamarjacobson

Last night I dreamed it was raining hard and heavy. I ran around in the mud trying to bring the cats inside to safety. First, I picked up Molly and held her firmly, arms wrapped around her body as she struggled to go free, clawing and biting at me. I was speaking to her, explaining how we had to go indoors, rain dripping down my nose and into my mouth as I tried to calm her. She pushed out of my arms and as she jumped to the ground the rain turned to snow, soft, gentle, white and Molly had become Terry running towards me, tail wagging. Just as he stretched his little black button of a snout towards me, I felt a tap-tapping, little scratch on my face, and I awoke to find Ada Mae sitting on my stomach, paw reaching out to my nose.


As I write this, Ada is calling me to play with her favorite toy: string attached to a straightened wire hanger. She has become my little pal. After waking me early each morning she runs and jumps onto my desk. I laid out a small, soft blanket and she loves to sit close to me as I write. She waits while I open the blinds, take my cup of coffee and visit the bathroom. As I walk into my study she chirps and warbles a greeting, sitting up in excitement because she knows I have a few treats for her. And so, we start our day together. Ada no longer hesitates to enter our bedroom and sleeps on the bed up close to my body all night long. She is coming out of the shadow and into the light. For years, she respected Molly’s dominance and ownership of house and people in it. I suspect she was put in her place a number of times as a reminder of who was boss!

No luck with the string and hanger game, so Ada settles on a rug by my feet. A gentle soul, flirtatious, warm and soft body, she seems to sway her hips as she wanders through the house. Slowly she takes ownership, treading carefully and respectfully as she does so, looking into my eyes as if asking permission, holding my gaze without fear.


There is a calm about her that heals and forgives me of all the pain and guilt I feel about my past pets, taking the struggling dominant Molly of my dream, turning her into a white and fluffy as snow Terry, becoming the waking reality of my new, dear friend, gently tapping my nose with her out-stretched paw.

Ada Mae.