Crooked little Darma

Our Dear Old Darma.

Me & Darma 

2002

I may have never mentioned on my blog a dear 'ol cat I had the privilege to love for only two years.
Darma came to me through my vet, Dr. Ann, who found her injured on the road one evening on her way home from the clinic. She cared for her injuries and brought her into the clinic the following day. Darma was already a geriatric cat and she was now an injured stray. Dr. Ann waited for an owner to come forward to claim her but alas that never happened. She remained at the clinic while she healed from her injuries which were mostly to the pelvic area.
This is where I come in. My old calico, Patches, was brought in to see Dr. Ann when I discovered a lump on her side. While at the clinic, I peaked in to Darma's cage and looked into the gold-coloured eyes of an old, confused and sad little cat. After getting the story on her I left the clinic with a heavy heart not knowing if her owners would ever look for her.
Dr. Ann called me a few days later and asked if I would take her. She offered free vet care for the rest of her life if only I would give her a loving home. She said she was healing well but would walk with a crooked gait from now on.
I was heading to the cottage the next day and told Ann that if she was still there on return I would adopt her.
So, Darma came to live with us; all 7 crooked pounds of her. She was approximately 16 years old.

Darma was shameless and wobbled into our home of 5 cats without a worry in the world. She ignored everyone of our cats and became my little black shadow.
When approached by a resident feline she would stare them down and turn her back on them. She had absolutely no use for them. She was not a fighter but neither was she a lover.

For two summers Darma joined us at the cottage as she was unable to be away from me for any length of time. And she was an old lady, remember; I did spoil her.
She loved it there and spent her days lying on the wide window-sills looking out over the lake. She ate barbecued chicken off the grill for dinner and followed sun-puddles throughout the cottage.
She slept on a futon near the front window where she could hear the loons early morning.
I carried her around like a baby.

We lost Darma to kidney failure when she was 18 years old. Two wonderful year with this funny little crooked cat.
I still miss that pouty old face.

hugs, Deb