This is a story about change and uncertainty and fear of the unknown.
My friends will sometimes tease me and call me a “cat lady” which I somewhat resent. But the truth is that I’m a single woman, living alone with two cats, sooooo the stereotype fits. But I maintain that I’m not a “crazy cat lady”!
I adopted Larry Mulligan from a rescue shelter in 2016. They had found the 6-year-old cat on a golf course. He was fat with gray hair, and he had a bad hip, but he was getting a second chance in life. Hence the name, Larry Mulligan. A year later, I adopted 6-year-old Buddy from the same shelter. He had been rescued from a house of hoarders where he lived with 40 cats. Since I primarily wanted him to be a friend of Larry, he was named “Buddy”.
Like most “families”, we had our routines. In the mornings, they would join me on the couch during my quiet time.
In the evenings, they would hang out with me on the couch or on the deck while I watched TV or read.
And when I worked from home, I had to pull up two chairs so that they could sit with me—one on either side—otherwise they would meow and scratch my pant leg to get attention.
They were living a very nice, somewhat predictable, life. Then it began to change!
In March of 2019, I put my condo up for sale as I began to prepare to move from Connecticut to Texas. Life became somewhat unsettling for these two! While we still had our routines, different things began to happen. For one, I vacuumed almost every day in an effort to keep the condo looking perfect for showings, which meant they went into hiding for a little while each day. (So.Much.Vacuuming!) And the showings! Over the next six months, there were 73 showings and 6 open houses. (The real estate market for sellers stinks in Connecticut right now). Who were these new people coming around? (I was told by the realtor that Larry learned to rub up against the strangers and beg for scratches, but Buddy always hid.) In addition, there were three separate weeks during the summer when a friend of mine lived at the condo while I traveled. Their “mom” was gone. Was this their new mom? But then, the new one was gone and I was back again. So much change! What was going on?
I finally accepted an offer on my condo on September 2, with the closing set for October 11th. Less than six weeks! The “change” accelerated as I began to pack up my belongings and prepare for the move. More strangers were coming to the house as I took care of some minor repairs and donated some of my furniture. Larry was a bit put out when he went to lay on the bed for his afternoon snooze in the sun and the bed was gone! He was not impressed by the towel that was provided as replacement!
Then, their world was turned totally upside down! One day, they were confined to the master bath while the movers removed the furniture. After several hours, I went into the bathroom, forced them into a container, and put them in the back seat of the car. Off we went into the unknown (for them) as my dad and I headed out on our 3 day journey to Houston.
I had carefully planned our route so that we stopped after about 8 hours each day at pet-friendly hotels. The first night, Larry explored the room and then made himself comfortable on my dad’s bed.
Buddy chose to hide inside the crate. During the night, he came out of the crate and basically had a panic attack. He ran around the room loudly meowing, almost howling. I was trying to give him the anti-anxiety meds and figure out what was going on when I realized that he was afraid of the “third” cat in the room! His reflection in a big mirror! I sat up with him for a while until he finally settled down.
The hotel beds were on a platform, so we were unconcerned about Buddy hiding where we couldn’t get him back in the crate. However, Buddy found the small space between the platform and the wall! The next morning, we had to have hotel maintenance come and pull off the mattress and box springs so that we could get to him!
Then it was back in the crate for two more days and nights in the car and strange hotels. Every day was a little better as they seemed to accept their “new normal”. This was followed by a week of being confined in the upstairs of my sister’s home (with the sounds and smells of her dogs living downstairs) until we moved into the new apartment with the familiar smells of the belongings that had finally arrived, mingling with the new odors. It was different….but it was okay.
And the routines have come back. We still snuggle together in the mornings and evenings.
And I still have to pull up a chair for them to sit next to me while I work.
Life is good. It’s different. But it’s good.
And you want to know something else? Buddy is no longer afraid. In a previous post , I told how Buddy lived with us for several months before he allowed me to pet him. However, he continued to be afraid of other people and would always hide. Now, when there are visitors, he no longer runs away. He not only stays in the room, but will allow them to pet him. This is HUGE! He went through a scary period of unknowns, and I was the only human he trusted (and he wasn’t too sure about that, either!) But now it’s okay. He is more content, as a result.
A few days before the move, as most of my belongings were packed or taken away, I looked at Larry and Buddy and thought, “You don’t know what is going to happen. You are anxious because of the changes, but you do not realize that I’m going to take care of you. I have a plan. I know where we are going. You do not need to be afraid.” I wished that I could communicate that to them. But all I could do was pet them and try to sooth them. And I’m sure that they were very confused and angry with me when I first shut them up in the bathroom and then later forced them into the crate. I had to grab Buddy by the back of the neck and drag him from his hiding places to force him into the crate each time. Having the hotel maintenance man (another stranger!) pick up the box springs to expose his hiding place and then me grabbing him and shoving him into the crate had to be especially frightening. I had never been so rough with him, but it was necessary in order to continue our journey.
This point of view of our experience helped me to understand my relationship with God a little more. God loves me and only wants what is best for me. When things begin to change, or I feel a bit “roughed up” in life, I need to trust in His Perfect Timing and His Perfect Plan for my life. “ ‘For I know the plans I have for you,’ declares the Lord, ‘plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future’.” (Jeremiah 29:11)
I’m also reminded of “Easter Saturday”. We all know the Easter story and its glorious ending, so it’s not scary to us. However, on that first Saturday, the disciples were hiding together, afraid for their lives. The person that they had given up everything to follow—jobs, families, home—had just been crucified and the authorities were probably planning to come after them next. Jesus had hinted about His resurrection before he died, but none of it made sense to them on that Saturday. Think about all the emotions they must have felt: Sadness, fear, worry, regret…..And then it was Sunday morning, and EVERYTHING changed. God had a plan all along. They just didn’t understand until it was revealed in His Perfect Timing. And interestingly, Peter: impulsive, hot headed Peter—w ho had first pledged his undying devotion to Jesus at the Last Supper before denying Jesus and running away a few hours later—would be the one that was chosen to lead the new Christian church, as told in the book of Acts . Peter had to experience three years of travel with Jesus, the fear of Easter Saturday, and the overwhelming joy of Easter Sunday to be prepared for what God had planned for him.
When the world seems crazy (Like a COVID-19 pandemic) and you do not understand what is happening or why…..remind yourself that it’s Easter Saturday and Sunday is coming! God has a plan for you and His plans are always good.
Amen.