Maybe she is ok.
Maybe not.
The orange feral mama cat
Who visited us regularly for months.
Sometimes stepping through our front door
just to see what it is like
To be an indoor cat.
But she preferred her freedom
With her orange siblings? Children?
Best friends?
Three of them visiting daily.
Ollie – probably Olivia we called her.
And her friends Stanley and Junior.
All orange. All hungry.
All willing to be petted however briefly
By my cat-whisperer husband.
And then last week
She wasn’t there.
She may come back.
The others have come
But not her.
Not yet.
It’s been cold and rainy
Outside and in my heart. How I loved this gentle wildling.
How I pray to see her again.
Perhaps she has found
A warmer place
Or better food.
Who knows what is in the mind of a cat?
The cat-whisperer says.
But still I mourn for her.
For the surprise of her visits.
A little brightness in days
Filled with pandemic
And polarization.
Something to remind me of goodness
And gentleness
And sweetness.
Even if but for a moment.
A lovely orange feral
Bringing joy
And love.
And oh, the vulnerability
Of loving something wild
Something that doesn’t want
To be tamed.
Something uncertain
In an uncertain time.
But now that she isn’t around
I miss her.
I weep for her.
Knowing that God cares
About sparrows and
Feral cats
More than even I do.
Comments