I’m feeling sad. The garden seems empty. Who would expect
that a little stray cat could have such a big presence? Four days ago, I closed the front door at
about 11:00 PM as I usually do. The neighborhood
cats would wander in and out until I closed the door, especially Black
Kitty. She had taken to coming inside to
lay under the table or alternately, the big flowerpot in front of the door
where she could watch us on the couch.
On Wednesday, she had already gone about her night business
when I closed the door. Usually she would be sleeping on PQ’s patio chair in
the morning, or if the sun had already risen over the latia fence, she would be
in the shade behind the barbeque. Thursday morning she wasn’t there. I had a
twinge of concern but remembered that this happened now and then. Cats have their own secret life and although
creatures of habit, they sometimes have their attention on other things. After all, the white cat disappeared for two
weeks once. I think his human kept him
inside to fix in him where he lived. But, Blackie didn’t seem to have any other
human family.
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| Blackie Watching from the Flower Pot |
Whitey was becoming jealous of the black cat, and I wondered
if he scared her off in the morning.
But, she never showed up, not that afternoon, not the next day or the
next. Both PQ and I suspected that
something must have happened to her. It
could have been a coyote, a hawk, a dog or a car. We hadn’t heard anything but
then there is a big field behind us, and beyond that the mountains. Maybe
someone thought she was homeless and took her to the shelter. I would like to
think that, but I doubt it.
Last fall, when I first saw her, she was small and skinny. I
don’t know how old she was. I think she was older than her size indicated
because her dull coat indicated that she was undernourished. The hair on her ears was patchy, her left ear
had the tip clipped off, and her tail seemed ragged. She was so wary that she wouldn’t come out of
hiding to eat unless you left the food out and then went indoors out of sight. I don’t know if she was feral or abandoned,
but she stayed away from humans. There were indications that her previous
experience with our species had not been good.
The first time I got close enough to touch her, she jumped
three feet off the ground. However, every week she became a bit more trusting.
By last week, I could comb her pet and play with her. She was still anxious about being picked up,
but would allow me to hold her off the ground a few feet. We were working on that.
She became so affectionate that sometimes I had to put her outside when working,
she was always under foot.
We were concerned about leaving her on her own when we went
to Arizona in May, but Amanda our daughter in law fed her and the others whenever
they checked on our house. When we got home, Blackie peered cautiously around
the corner of the house and on my greeting, “hi little girl,” she came bounding
to meet me.
Right after I realized that she probably wasn’t coming back,
I also recognized that I always had the sense that her life was
precarious. Every morning I was happy
that she was still here. It was in her aura. She was much like certain humans
I’ve known who began life on a narrow edge. The aura of a perilous hold on this
dimension envelops them. You want to enjoy their presence while you can because
it seems likely that they will fall through the dimensional floor into the unknown.
Perhaps it’s because they always did have a dual residence between this world
and wherever they came from and to where they will return. Even if they have a big
hole in their aura, such creatures deliver a special blessing to the rest of
us. I’m glad for the opportunity to make this little creature’s life better for
as long as she stayed here. I can still feel her muscular little body vibrating
with purrs. She was a medicine gift.
PQ who doesn’t want a pet to complicate our life or travel
plans, said, “she was such a sweet cat, this is why I don’t want an animal, the
loss is always hard.” Perhaps now, we are again free to travel without planning
for anyone’s wellbeing in our absence.
Last week I made a great shift in my attitude toward my life
on Mother Earth. It’s been a new start in life. The original high is gone, and
I knew it would dim, but now I am down to the Nitti gritty work of living my
new insights in everyday reality. I’ve noticed
that a big breakthrough is often accompanied by a loss. I don’t understand the
dynamics, but I wonder if this is somehow connected to the origins of sacrifice.
In the religious use, the pump is primed, so to speak by offering the loss
first in hope of the blessing.
Perhaps the alienated child in me, identified with this little
creature. After all, I’ve had terrified and abandoned cats in my dreams for
years. They are a species that never was completely domesticated, and often find
the human world confusing and threatening. Did Blackie disappear as a mirror of
my own social precariousness? Nevertheless, I’m still hoping she will show up.
UPDATE:
Last night we finally had a wonderful earth soaking rain. It
is the first truly nourishing rain in months. I was enjoying this great
blessing even while wondering if Blackie was alive and soaked or possibly lying
lifeless in the refreshed but muddy field behind us. The other two cats have
been especially friendly since she disappeared as if they were trying to compensate. However, after writing about Blackie I was
feeling much better, something was shifting.
This morning I was inexplicably OK. Yellow and White greeted me when I
opened the door and we headed for their dishes behind the house. And then all
three of us heard faint meows next door.
I looked through the fence but saw nothing, then the meows grew
stronger. Finally, I saw something move behind my neighbors window screen. Yes!
It was Blackie. I could see her jumping around trying to find a way through the
screen. She was desperate to join us. What mixed feelings! I was greatly
relieved but felt uneasy about her captivity.
I miss her, and she misses us, but it was confirmation that someone is
trying to make a home for her and we don’t have to worry when we go out of
town.
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| The Smoke from One of the Fires Viewed from The Bypass |
I truly believe that this world is a boundless fractal
pattern of broiling, morphing creative energy. Each event only seems isolated
when we are micro focused on our own minuscule view inside the great design.
Mother Nature swallows and digests us and there is an even bigger Mamma waiting
to swallow ours in the vastness of the universe. On a local scale, the forest
fires surrounding us have filled the air with smoke and last night’s rain,
washed the sky clean. We are always vulnerable on this physical plane, but each
relief is ecstatic. And, the “Maybe”
story has no end.
“There were once two old farmers who had a
fence between their property. Every
morning farmer A would meet farmer B at the fence and they would exchange news
and gossip, as neighbors do. One day
farmer B’s best horse jumped the fence and ran away in pursuit of a band of
wild horses. Upon hearing the news, farmer A came to visit. “Such bad luck,” he
said sympathetically. “Maybe,” farmer B replied. The next morning the horse
returned, bringing with it three wild horses. “How wonderful,” the neighbor
exclaimed, now you have four horses and they look young and strong. “Maybe,” replied the old man. The following
day, his son decided to train one of the untamed horses, was thrown off, and
broke his leg. Knowing that farmer B was
getting old and needed his son’s help, the neighbor came to offer his sympathy
on this misfortune. “I’m so sorry those wild horses were bad luck after all”,
he exclaimed. “Maybe,” answered farmer B.
Very soon after this misfortune, two military officials came to the
village looking for young men to draft into the army. Seeing that the old
farmer’s son’s leg was broken, they passed him by. Farmer A congratulated
farmer B on how well things had turned out after all. “Your son would be
drafted and you’d never have any help on your farm if his leg had not been
broken,” said farmer A. “Maybe,” said
farmer B. An so the story continues…
