Pilgrim: Tales of a Traveling Cat

By Ellen Hasenecz Calvert

Pilgrim, Tales of a Traveling Cat is a cat's eye view of the life, travels, and adventures of an urbane feline sophisticate in the world of his favorite humans. Although only the uncharitable would call Pilgrim a "hustler" when he meets his new family in an animal shelter, he's already in charge, riding on the vet's shoulder. Pilgrim is clearly a "people" cat, but he's still a cat and he's soon running the new digs, defending his garden wall against intruders, falling down storm drains, devoting himself to his humans, and winning them-and us-over.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Mar 16, 2009
• ISBN: 9781467865258

Ellen Hasenecz Calvert

Ellen Hasenecz Calvert resides in her adopted home state of Arizona. Born in New Jersey, Ellen considered herself a "Joisey" girl until 1988 when she fell in love with the fragile beauty of the Southwest. Pilgrim is her first book.

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© 2009 Ellen Hasenecz Calvert. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

First published by AuthorHouse 3/12/2009

ISBN: 978-1-4389-3000-8 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4678-6525-8 (ebk)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2008910737

Printed in the United States of America

Bloomington, Indiana

To D.C. & O.T.

Contents

For seventeen years,

As the car was safely

At the age of seven months,

Opening the screen door

Driving out from New Jersey

One of my mini-wishes

In the autumn of 1990,

Slowly over the next two years,

As I grew older,

Carlsbad…..

With my newfound maturity,

In the twilight years

In all my numerous lives,

Thinking about full moons

Epilogue

About the Author

For seventeen years,  

our family belonged to a cat named Pilgrim. Originally, he was called Sam and acquired the name Pilgrim Sam only because second son Nicholas was reading the book, Pilgrim’s Progress in English class. Pilgrim centered the family with his variety of activities. When in a playful mood, he became known as the ways of Pilgrim; an unpleasant day labeled him as just a Pill or Pill-Grim, and his wild, outrageous behavior was described as a Pilsner light.

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As the glue that kept the family together, Pilgrim’s adventures were numerous over the years, but wait, let’s allow Pilgrim to tell the story himself, in his own words…..

My life has been a series of adventures. When I first thought about writing an autobiography of these stories, it was in the late 1980s. At that time, I rejected the idea of typing them because of the logistics involved in manipulating my huge front paws to hit the right keys. However, at the present time, the computer in the office now makes becoming a writer much simpler for me. I can relate to a lap top as a lap cat. Hey, lap cat sits on lap top…

Life began for me in close proximity to a dumpster surrounded by weeds at a strip mall in Morris County, New Jersey. Mom, with her mouth full, was busily carrying us off to a new location when the capture took place. My entire family was scooped up into a station wagon and driven to Noah’s Ark Animal Haven. There must have been seven of us, including Mom, because we were emptied into a cage all together. It was estimated by my teeth or lack of them that I had been born in May of 1985 and, even at that young age, I believed it prophetic to be rescued by an animal haven known as Noah’s Ark. Why? you might ask and the answer is quite simple.

Historically, my family line traced back to the Turkish Van cats that lived in the country of Turkey. My ancestors grew up in the shadow of Mount Ararat, a mountain in East Turkey, where Noah’s Ark supposedly still rests. This data and other info such as my ancestral family’s love of water gave a charming distinction to my heritage. Of course, in Turkey, we were valued more for our pure white coats, so take some points off for my crooked brown angel wings and other brown beauty marks.

Between Mom’s milk and the shelter’s food, my days normally were spent eating and tumbling with my six siblings. One by one, first Mom and then the others were adopted. Don’t get me wrong: adoption is good because I’ve been told having a loving home and caring family affords the possibility of a richer life.

Goodbyes were not easy for me and being left behind meant being alone