Dear Pulpwood Queens and Timber Guys Book Club members and beyond!
My life is an open book. I had this Sunday to get everything done for the week. So today was going along pretty seamlessly, homework proceeding nicely, FINALLY got my hair colored and highlighted, then supper time came for my cats. I have three, all rescue, inside cats. Rush jumped up on the arm of my chair to notify me it was dinner time and to the cat dish, we go. I called the other cats and what, no Churchie. Churchie, the little boy cat I rescued from homelessness has gone missing. Growing in leaps and bounds he never missed a cat dish opportunity. As I was leaving
As I was leaving church, months ago, a small kitten ran up the aisle to me as the doors opened at the end of the service. That little kitten just jumped into my arms! I was never so shocked in my life. I have had a lot of cats but this one was really something. He purred and purred as he curled up in my arms. I told him right out loud, in front of God and all my church members, “Well I guess you are going home with me.” I named him Church as that is where I found him, but Churchie became his name that stuck. I searched the house over and it is small you all. No Churchie, so I think he must have got out when I went outside to get something from the car. I called and called and no Churchie.
I searched the house again, all the closets, and no Churchie. So I think the little scamp must have got out when I went outside to get something from the car. I called and called and no Churchie.
So I am at a loss, the next thing I know I am crying. You know that sinking feeling that you get when you know that it is going to not going to be a happy ending. So I posted this photo and sent out to my community bulletin board. Churchie is on your left and Rush is on your right. They are pretty much inseparable which is amazing as Rush was pretty much my loner until Churchie came along. They really hit it off. And Ferrelina, my other cat named because he was a feral cat rescue that never let me touch him for like four years. He now sleeps on my head. He would always watch the other two from the higher perch sidelines. He wasn’t talking.
I love animals, probably too much. I cry at every loss on Facebook of anyone’s pet who dies or goes missing, no matter the creature. I worried about all those animals who were left behind in the floods. I mean who would leave their pets? I was practically a blubber case when I ran over a squirrel on the way to college. So why am I telling you all of this? Why?
Because no matter how old you get, there are just some things that still make me stop dead in my tracks. I still have homework to do, plus wash, and a kazillion other things on my daily agenda but I am just so darn sad. I love this cat and he’s not even a year old. I brush off my tears and try to stay positive but life just always does not have a happy ending. I just get so tired of sadness all the time that I try and try so hard to be a positive and a joyous person. Life is hard. So I am going to go wash my face, call one more time before it gets dark and pray for that happy ending. I live in the woods and it is dangerous for small pets around here, especially at night.
What I try to remember is that in every cloud there is a silver lining? Not perhaps what I am expecting but just sharing my life with all of you makes me seem more connected and comforts me. Not a great day after all for the Queen but I will not let life get me down.
Onward and upward, back to my homework and keep praying my little Churchie comes home. Thank you so much for listening to my story. Perhaps this is just a reminder of those wonderful animal stories from my childhood, “Old Yeller”, “Summer of the Monkey’s, “Island of the Blue Dolphins”, “Mr. Popper Penguins”, and “Rascal”. Oh, I could go on and on to “My Dog Skip, yes, those wonderful animal stories that taught us about life and death, but more importantly about love. So keep loving those animals and keep loving everybody.
Truly, kitty cat loving,
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