Meeting Mae

Mae is a very special tuxedo cat I met recently. She is seen here sitting on her favorite lime-green cushion. (Don Dale photo, 2010)

I met a blind cat a few weeks ago. I was immediately charmed by her -- so much so that I've been back to visit her at the SPCA three times now.

Mae is the cat that accompanied Tamsen Kingry and me to the WTVR TV studios for a recent interview on "Virginia this Morning." Tamsen is the SPCA's chief operating officer. We were there to talk about the Seniors for Seniors program, which connects humans 65 and older with pets 5 and older. I adopted my cat, Cassie, through the program in March. (My first thought was to bring Cassie along for the interview, but Tamsen suggested we bring a cat who was adoptable instead of one who already has a home.)

I met Mae and Tamsen before our interview in a waiting area at WTVR. Mae was in her carrier. Lively and affectionate, she poked her curious nose through the grate and rubbed against my fingers as Tamsen told me about her. When she said that Mae is blind, I was astonished. I had never met a blind cat before.

When we moved into the studio for the interview, Tamsen took Mae out of her carrier, and she snuggled comfortably between us on the set, purring and even more affectionate now that she was unconfined. Tamsen explained to the audience that Mae is a special-needs kitty and emphasized that she will need extra attention when she finds a new home. The interview went well. When it was over, we said our good-byes, and I gave Mae a farewell scratch under her chin before Tamsen returned her to her carrier.

About a week later, I visited Mae at the SPCA. She lives in a bright and cheerful room with a handful of other special-needs cats. Her favorite place to curl up is on a lime-green cushion under a blue chair next to the door. When I sat down on the floor and picked her up, she settled readily into my lap and purred enthusiastically. She's a sweet-natured and gentle cat and relishes attention, even from comparative strangers. She knows her way around the room and can easily find her litter box and her food and water. It occurred to me that Mae has never really known what life would be like if she were sighted. Her world is dark, but it's filled with other cats and kind people, and she seems to compensate for her lack of vision with a sharp sense of smell and acute hearing.

I have visited Mae several more times. I think she recognizes me, although that might be wishful thinking on my part. I thought long and hard about adopting her myself, but Cassie's vet and I agreed that it might be too risky, since Cassie is still fighting a persistent, contagious viral infection.

I mentioned my interest in Mae in an e-mail to a friend, Christine, who lives in London. Christine told me that she had a friend here in the States, Norma, whose blind cat had recently died after a long and happy life. I e-mailed Norma with a question that had been gnawing at me. How does a blind cat figure out how to enjoy the pleasure of bounding up onto a windowsill or jumping into a warm lap? And how does she work up the nerve to spring back down? The literal leap of faith involved seemed impossible to me.

Norma's cat, Elizabeth, managed with few problems, she told me.

"She jumped up on her favorite blanket-covered chairs and onto our laps till the end. She loved jumping onto the wide windowsill and loved sleeping on 'her chair' on our screened porch during the warm months. We are convinced she was the most affectionate cat on the planet.

"It's my opinion that Mae will learn to jump on a chair or lap without much trouble. Maybe she would have to be lifted onto permitted areas a few times, but I think she will compensate with more acute hearing and the use of her whiskers in negotiating rooms. Elizabeth didn't run -- she walked carefully and did bump into things sometimes.

"She loved being on people's laps, especially my husband Dean's lap. As soon as he settled into a chair, she was there on his lap, purring loudly, and he still misses her so much."

Mae, who tugs at my heartstrings, is still at the SPCA awaiting just the right person, one who understands her special needs and has time for the extra attention she'll need as she learns to adapt to new surroundings.

I hope she'll soon find that special home.