Monet

I had a mentally exhausting weekend.  Well, at least Sunday was.  Saturday was pretty good, getting my house clean, and then hanging with mom in the South Wedge doing some window shopping, looking at pretty homes and gardens.  The weather has been perfect for the past week or so, despite a rain shower overnight last night.  We even had President Obama in town to eat at a Park Avenue eatery, where Mom and I wound up our day sipping a glass of wine that afternoon, across from it. 

Little Monet, who has become the joy in the house these days – the adult kitties are real fighters these days and are making their mom very unhappy and having to split them up, put some in their ‘time out’ rooms, and cleaning up cat piss along the way.   Very frustrating, but I look at them still thanking God that they are not still out on the streets, where there are SO many that would make loving pets if only given the chance.  Anyway, Monet was quiet on Saturday, and slept a lot.  In the late afternoon, during my ‘wine time’, he came sniffing around on the porch, and then back in – laying next to me during mealtime.  The next morning, as I always do, I got up at 4 am. and all the cats gather at my feet, each with their own style of morning greetings (fifty shades of meow), I did not see Monet.  Which was VERY unusual.  He is there like clockwork, waiting for his little bit of wet food treat.  So after I fed the others, I started to call for him, looking around the house, opening every door and cupboard.  Still no Monet.  Now I am panicking, and glancing at the clock knowing I have to leave at 5:15 to go feed the other homeless/feral cats that I feed each day in the hood.  Now I begin questioning myself if I really did see Monet while I ate dinner the night before.  Now I am thinking he either got out, or is dead in the house somewhere.  I started to go outside in the pitch dark calling for him.  Then running around in the house calling for him.  I decided to go on my rounds, assured he would be sitting there when I returned an hour later.  I got to my middle spot on Ferndale and Webster, after seeing the three baby kittens – siblings to Monet – on Baldwin, and I noticed that the ‘kind’ people that allowed me to move my shelter to their driveway/fence area had packed up my two plastic totes and boards, and stacked them as if to say ‘we don’t want this hear anymore’.  I simply lost it at this point.  There are five beautiful cats here waiting for me each morning – one very petite sweet little orange kitten that is pregnant no less!  I started to ball my eyes out.  I immediately placed the shelter over next to the dirt on the other side of the driveway, and prayed after I left that they wouldn’t trash it.  I even left a note for this woman to call me, which she never did.  I had to hope it would still be intact for these poor animals when I returned in the morning. 

I left there devastated – by seeing the baby kittens on Baldwin, the shelter being closed up, and knowing Monet was missing.  I questioned what I was doing and thought the end of this madness is near.  I got back to the house, and no Monet.  From that point on, I tried to just put one foot forward and not totally lose it.  I walked around the neighborhood in silence, calling for him, listening.  Nothing but bird chirps and squirrels rustling about.  Same with indoors, no TV, no sounds, just listening, calling for him.  Nothing but the other cats mewing in response to me.   After that, I was a babbling crying idiot – I called a few friends, but no one could say anything to relieve my sense of loss, and guilt thinking I had somehow let him outside and how was never going to find his way back.  I thought about the parents around the world when their child goes missing.  It’s a horrible, horrible feeling.  This is a 14 week old kitten that depends on me for food, shelter and love.  I was just devastated.  Finally, around noon, after walking around the house again, I heard a faint mew, and went into the house and found Monet, at the food dish.  I have NO idea where he was, but I scooped him up and cried one last time into his little belly, thanking God for answering the prayers of me and the few people I asked to say prayers.  Thank God, a heavy weight was lifted, although I paid the rest of the day with my very sore eyes.

So that’s my weekend story.  My faith restored, I went out again this morning, and the shelter was still up the way I left it on Ferndale and Webster.  For another day.  Thank God.   PS, Monet still needs a home!  Help!

"Change your thoughts if you wish to change your circumstances."