Nine very long weeks ago, my cat, Ms. Mouse, took a flying leap off the 3rd floor terrace of my atelier in Minusio, the 4th floor to those in North America, and began what was surely a feline, Swiss adventure.
Last Friday, after two-days of cold rain, conditions she loathes, she finally decided it was time to come home, and presented herself at my neighbours door.
How grateful I am to all my neighbours, Frau Bernhard, Evelyn, and Regula, for knowing who she was and where she belonged! Special thanks to Regula who put out food and her litterbox and left her home open inside and out 24/7 until Mouse came inside!
It was a paradoxical weekend; it was lovely to experience snuggling and cuddling with Ms. Mouse who had never before tolerated such behaviour! It made it very clear how she had cultivated new tolerances and learned new survival skills on her outing. What was sad was how my once 4-kilo kitty was a feather, her weight under a kilo, as neither food nor water would stay down.
Yesterday morning we headed off to her vet, Dr. Balli, who quickly told me to go home and call him in the morning, warning me that she might have liver or kidney damage. If this turned out to be true, it would mean her adventure, the one called a lifetime, would be over in the morning.
The realisation that I might actually lose her permanently was hideously painful, and led to confronting the stark realities that accompany good things, her return, when they can so quickly slip passed and out of our grasp. Calling it an early night, the hours were long and fitful as I tossed and turned reflecting --thinking and feeling-- on the pain that comes with losing someone we love or something we value. The darkness sent me back to the moment of light in the dim cellar when Ms. Mouse immediately responded with her mouse-like squeek when I called her name! Clearly, she felt the joy of being found. as I experienced the wonder and love of finding her once again.
Then, once again the awareness of the truth about how pain is the consequence of being attached to an outcome, I unclenched my fists, opened my heart and surrendered my fear, and as my spirit took flight, I finally slept.
Dr. Balli just called with great news. Ms. Mouse is remarkably strong and all her functions are normal, so after one more day in the clinic with IV food and water, she can come home tomorrow!
Today and every day my intent remains to live my life well and truly, doing so in a state of Grand anticipation that is devoid of false expectation [premeditated resentment] to the best of my human ability!