Lessons Learned from Dahni, The Eyeless Wonder Cat

Dahni has no eyes. Shhhh. He doesn’t know it. And we don’t tell him.

They say that what a child doesn’t know won’t hurt him. Well, we decided not to tell Dahni that he has no eyes, and so far, he doesn’t seem to mind. He is our Eyeless Wonder Cat. Since he arrived in our home in Israel, we’ve learned a few things about life.

Dahni is a true resident of Tel Aviv, one of the thousands of street cats born every year in Israel. We think he has Egyptian in him as his ears are so large and he is so skinny, resembling the ancient revered Egyptian cats, which adds to his ethnic flavor. My friend, Deanna, found Dahni on the street when he was barely a month old. He’d been attacked and one eye dangled useless and the other had been sliced in half. Deanna has a heart of gold and she rescued this little helpless creature and took him home. Having only had dogs and never a cat, and having very little money, she cared for the kitten as best she could until the second eye popped out, leaving Dahni with pink holes where the eyes would be. Sounds awful, but you actually don’t notice it right away, and you become accustomed to it after a while. Dahni became accustomed to his lack of eyes as he probably could only see for a week or two before he was attacked. To him, this is a normal life.

Deanna begged me, and many others, to take Dahni as she had to go back to Romania for a month and couldn’t take him or take care of him. At last minute I finally agreed, ready to have the pitiful thing put to sleep right away. But luck was on Dahni’s side, as usual.

Dahnilukah was delivered to us one day after we returned from Istanbul where I suffered horribly from my cigarette smoke allergy. Within an hour of his late evening arrival I came down with a massive sinus infection that put me in a fevered vegetable state for five days. During those five days, Dahni (we shortened it) proved he was worth keeping around.

My blurry brain realized that he could find his way around the many chairs and other obstacles we keep in the house with only a bump or two on the nose. Once he knew where the obstacle was, he would miss hitting it on the next pass, never pausing in his pacing. He has a unique walk where the front paws act like radar, stepping out rather than down. But in running, he is pure cat, racing through the house.

I believe that all cats are trainable and very intelligent, but I was startled at how intelligent Dahni was. From years of raising and training cats, I began the first day calling his name and saying “food” and shaking the food dish. By that evening he knew his name and the word “food” very well. It usually took many days if not a week or so to train cats like this. The word “food” brings him running now.

I tried a variety of toys, understanding noisy toys would work better. We finally narrowed it down to little furry mice that have a rattle inside. But not just any rattle. A low pitched rattle just doesn’t interest him. He’s not into thunking sounds. He loves the high pitched mariachi rattle, going ballistic over those mice, carrying them around and terrorizing them until they are nothing more than a scrap of fur with the plastic body is exposed.

And he plays fetch. I was watching TV and I looked down at the couch and found a toy mouse next to me. I picked it up and tossed it on the floor. A few minutes later, I found it next to me again. I thought this was odd and pitched it again, trying to train Dahni not to play on the couch as he hooks his claws into the tapestry. Before I knew it, the toy was back, so I started paying attention. Dahni would chase after the toy mouse and bat it around a bit then pick it up in his mouth and carry it to me, jumping up on the couch and depositing the mouse by my hand. This went on for hours! And he doesn’t hunt for the mouse with cautious steps. He propels himself off the couch or chair to fly through the air and makes a mad dash through the length of the house to chase the mouse, slipping and sliding around on the marble floor. Caution isn’t in his vocabulary, only determination.

Life Lessons I’ve Learned from Dahni

Dahni has a determination to live life fully unlike many humans I know. He is very goal oriented and passionate about getting what he wants. My husband started calling him “Mekh-ah-bell” which is Hebrew for “terrorist”. With the fighting escalating between Israel and Palestine, having our own resident terrorist seemed appropriate. Dahni loves to hide under the edge of the bed and attack our ankles as we walk by. So far, Brent holds the record for five ankle whacks from one end to the other, which is actually impressive when you consider that tall Brent can walk the distance in two steps.

Nothing gets in between Dahni and his “ball”. Be it a little styrofoam ball, plastic rattling mouse, or piece of tin foil, these are all “ball” to Dahni and he knows the word. He jumps up and down like a dog, practically panting, his whole body pleading, “throw the ball, throw the ball, throw the ball, now! Throw the ball, throw the ball…” I toss it across the room or down the hall and he is off, with nothing stopping him on his path to the goal.

Living with such an intelligent and determined animal, I can’t help but learn something about myself through the experience. When was the last time I focused on any goal, tossed a ball through the air and chased it with any passionate determination? When was the last time I really set any goals?

Dahni’s reward isn’t just in capturing the ball but in bringing it back to me to have me throw it again. Early in my life I was very goal oriented, but something slipped along the way. I seem to have forgotten that I have the ability to reset my goals and throw another ball through the air.

As he races through the house, maneuvering around the chair and table legs and other obstacles that just seem to crop up from time to time, sure, he’ll smash his nose and face as he runs full tilt into a box or bag that wasn’t there 10 minutes ago, but he pushes past it and keeps on going. He’ll fly over the edge of the bed or through the air where something was leapable a few minutes before, tearing up tracks to get to the ball. Nothing stops him. If he hits really hard, he shakes it off with a sneeze and gets back on track. When we humans chase our goals, isn’t it amazing how the smallest obstacle can stop us in our tracks? How many times have you been halted in pursuit of a worthy cause only to stand there and wonder why you are doing this, is it worth it, what good will it do, and why bother? Or maybe you think that this is some “sign” that you shouldn’t be going in this direction and another one might be better? Or you just stand there, frozen and unable to figure out what to do as all the options might keep you from your goal or might help you actually achieve it? I know I’m guilty.

What if we humans, the supposedly more superior animal, lived our life like Dahni, letting nothing get in the way of accomplishing our goals? Wonder what our lives would be like?

Among the many life lessons I’ve learned from Dahni, there is one last one that gives me pause and a lot to consider. When he jumps onto the bed, he really doesn’t know when he will land. Unlike other cats who lift their front paws and push off with their back, then land on the front with the back following ready to pounce again, Dahni has no clue when “down” will arrive. So he will jump like a normal cat but then assume a sitting position in the air, ready to land. There is nothing more amusing than sitting on the bed reading and suddenly seeing this hyperactive black bolt of lightning fly across the width of the bed in a sitting position. Not a common sight.

When Dahni jumps, he is ready to land. When we humans jump off our own cliffs, by taking risks and attempting new things, how do we fly through the air? Usually with screams echoing around us as our arms and legs flail through the air, never knowing where we will land and terrified of the falling as much as the landing. Dahni knows that one reality in life he is certain of is that he will come down. He will land. So he anticipates landing and is ready for it. What if we lived our lives this way? Come on, we all know we will land somewhere. That is what falling is all about: the landing. So why don’t we fly through the air in a sitting position, ready to land?

So again, Dahni’s Rules for Living might be a good idea to apply to your own life. Imagine what humanity would be like if we actually lived like Dahni?

1. The ball is the most important goal.

2. The journey is an adventure but don’t let it stop you from getting to the ball.

3. Get the ball and throw it again.

4. Always jump and fly through the air in a landing position.

Remember, you can probably see the ball you are after. He can’t. So what stops you from getting your ball?

Note: In 2002, Dahni and Lorelle were interviewed for a Hebrew/Israeli children’s national magazine, Ma’Ariv. Published in October, Brent has translated it and we’ve posted the translation for you here. You can read about singing, camping, (literally) potty-trained, eye-less wonder cat. Hey, Dahni, you’re famous!

We hope you have enjoyed this tale about our life on the road, a sample from our book, Home Is Where Lorelle Is. We have plenty of stories to share with you through our many programs or the articles we write. If you would like to read more about our adventures on the road, check out our Telling section.