There's a little black cat...who lives outside my place of work. I watch this cat, from my window, occasionally hunting and catching his prey. I admire that cat, for being on his own, and yet finding the strength, courage, and willingness to survive on his own. I often think about that cat...wonder if I had spotted him as a kitten, if I could have "saved" him. Yet, now that he is grown, I know tha...t the chances of him adapting to a domestic life are slim. I take comfort on those days when I see him taking control of his own life...making it into what he knows as a good life. After all, that's all he does know...how to survive...the instinct is innate...
Yet today, as I left work, after another long and exhausting day...I stopped just before the door. I looked outside, saw the tiny raindrops beginning to fall...the darkness slowly overcoming the light, and the cool breeze coming through the doors. I then pulled my hood over my head, and reached into my purse for my keys. As I made the walk to my car, I was surrounded by silence...and a strange yearning to know where the cat was...if he was okay. I then began to wonder what winter would be like for this cat...alone...on his own...in that large empty field. Suddenly, I stopped. Something made me look out to the field. There, over 100 yards away, was the black cat. Sitting on top of a fence. In the cold rain.
I wanted to go to him, yet I knew from experience that it was no use. I felt sad as I was about to enter my warm and dry car. Then, to my surprise, I noticed the cat was moving. Yes, in the cold rain, he was walking along the top rails of the fence. So gracefully, so full of confidence. Oblivious to the cold, the rain, the darkness surrounding him. He had a will, a will to survive. To carry on with his day, his life...to move forward with out fear or hesitance. It was in this moment that I, too, realized what was possible. That I, like that cat, can keep moving forward, on my own. I too, like that cat, would survive.
Mommy has been having a bad year. Everything is going wrong...and it just keeps getting worse. Please say a purrayer for her...and send some Purrs for Augie, my Dog brofur. He has been suffering from Cushing's Disease for just over a year now. He's very frail...but he's been eating and acting pretty good. He has his bad days; However, he has more good than bad.
UNTIL this weekend. He won't eat his kibble...not since Friday. Last night and all day today, he won't drink his water. He doesn't want to stand up, but he can when forced. He just seems very lethargic, weak, sad...Mommy has tried giving him water and chicken broth with a dropper, but it's not enough. He did eat a hamburger at noon because Mommy wanted him to eat SOMETHING...She doesn't have any money to take him to the vet...so please purr that he gets through this somehow. It's going to be a long night. Kisses to you all, Angel Ava
