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The cat came back

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Although the title of this post is borrowed from a song, it has a significantly different meaning for me. A few months ago, I stepped outside of my comfort zone and sent my five books to a local address that belongs to the cottage of a Canadian film director with the hope my books would find their way into his hands. Sadly, I came home from work yesterday to find the same box I had sent had been returned to me undelivered. The cat came back, it just couldn’t stay away. It was sitting on the porch the very next day.

Although the ‘next day’ actually totaled a few months, the sentiment is still appropriate. As I ponder the misfortune of not having been successful in reaching this Canadian director, I have no choice but to put my faith in the adage ‘cats have nine lives’. This thwarted attempt to introduce myself was the end of life number one, but I still have eight more to go!

My writing journey has been a roller coaster, and as much as I detest the thought of being strapped into an uncovered train travelling at warp speed, I have embraced the ride. I have done my best to swallow the contents of my stomach before my fellow passengers become victims of being drenched in the gastrointestinal spray of my failed attempts, and I have given myself the courage to embrace the opportunity that lingers in those remaining eight lives.

The cat may have come back, but that emboldened feline is ready for the next battle. I will survive. I will not go gently into that good night. I will not go down without a fight. And one day, I hope the cat that came back will be battling the MGM lion to see who has the loudest roar.

The Cat Came Back

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I remember this song (the title of this post) from my childhood but it never had as much meaning as it does now.

Those of you who read my blog know I had to put my dog down on January 3rd. It was a terrible start to a new year and a new decade. My emotions have been raw, to say the least, and it took every ounce of my strength to really process that loss and keep putting one foot in front of the other. My dog was my world.

Fast forward to last week. My boss and his wife were going away and the person who usually tends to their cat during their absence was also going to be away so I naturally agreed to look after Lulu. In the temperate weather, she is an indoor/outdoor cat. She loves to roam the property and in the winter months she is content to limit her time outside to a couple of hours. I let her out last Tuesday morning and she was there to greet me at noon when I arrived to let her back in the house. Last Wednesday was even milder and she was anxious to get out and enjoy the early spring weather but when I arrived at noon to let her back in, she was nowhere to be seen. When I went back at four o’clock, she was not waiting for me on the porch.

For the two days that followed, we checked the porch many times, searched the area and continually shook her container of treats hoping she would return, but all our efforts seemed to be in vain. I was devastated and finally had to make the call on Friday morning to let them know Lulu had been missing for two days.

The gentle temperatures plummeted at night. Spring was a thing of the past and the icy talons of winter had their grip on us once again. We hoped for the best, but we feared the worst. My boss’ son was home over the weekend with friends and there was still no sign of Lulu. I was gutted. Not only was I still dealing with my loss but was now dealing with the fact that I felt responsible for the loss of another family pet.

My boss and his wife arrived home late on Monday and were greeted by an empty house. They spent yesterday shedding many tears for Lulu and trying to process the fact their family pet was gone. But the cat came back! After six days, Lulu appeared at the sliding glass door yesterday. She has shed a few pounds, but she is home. I cried when I got the text and am still fighting back tears. Lulu is home.