Cat Ladies and Helping Hands

by Jerry Waxman

The town cats are legendary, even if no legends have ever been told about them. They are everywhere, at least wherever a trash bin is nearby. They recognize that humans live in their midst, but find them below their stature to communicate with.

Some people feed them. On the way to the kollel, where I sometimes work, there is a block of houses in front of which you can always see dozens of cats lying around. (Do cats come in dozens?) You will also see makeshift plates or bowls containing scraps of people food.

I’ve seen the woman who feeds them. Perhaps there are more than one, but I have seen one whom the cats gather round when she comes outside. I didn’t actually see her feed them; just saw her walking in the yard and telling the surrounding cats that she’ll bring them something later.

The woman is probably in her 70′s, pretty wide as many people are these days, and walks with the help of a cane. At her block, there are often a group or two of older men and women playing cards and speaking Russian. The older cat lady tends to hang out more with women’s groups than the mixed card-playing group.

I call her the older cat lady because there is another younger cat lady, a real one. I imagine she lives up the street from me.

Across the street from me is little park. Next to the park is a synagogue. Some kittens have taken up residence just at the gate to the synagogue. They are stray kittens, of course, but I have never seen an adult cat around them. Somebody from the synagogue leaves food and water from time to time.

The amazing thing is when the younger cat lady appears. (If you saw her, you’d know why I say she “appears” – like a ghost. She never seems to arrive from any place; she just seems to be there from time to time.)

And when she is there, she sits on the wall near the synagogue’s gate. And the kittens sit with her. At least one will lie next to her, and one on her lap, gazing into the cat lady’s face, as she massages the cat’s fur.

One time I said “Shalom” to the cat lady, and she seemed flustered and nervous, so I decided not to cause her discomfort anymore. I was pleased to know then that the three cats stuck with her to protect her. You could see by the looks on their faces, that they were guarding their human.

Back to the kollel: The other day, I was helping a gardener clean up the outside of the kollel. I pulled a sack full of leaves, twigs and rubbish to the outside trash bin. It was too heavy to lift directly into the bin. Instead I slid the sack up onto a discarded chair that was next to the bin.

Just then the older cat lady, the 70-year-old one, came walking across the street, cane and all. She went behind the bag I was trying to lift, gave it a great shove as I guided it’s mouth into the bin, and emptied it. Then, while I said thank-you, she walked away, no fanfare, no high fives, nothing.

Some people just like to help when they can. It’s what has held Sderot together for the last 8 years. It’s what’s held Israel together for the last 3000 years. And it’s what preserves the town’s stray cats.