Strays No More

The last two strays our team has caught look a lot alike.  Both large, both Californians.  One female, now named Monica Mae.  One male, rescued yesterday, now named Boo (paying homage to both Halloween weekend and to literary legend Boo Radley—props to Jill for this perfect name choice).  Monica Mae and Boo were rescued in different counties so it’s unlikely that their histories are related… but they were both abandoned for several weeks before their rescue.  They were both easy catches.  They both had serious cases of ear mites when they were brought to safety (easily treated with a kitten dose of Revolution).  They were both caught on days that I was spending with my mom, so I spent too much time with my head buried in the phone rather than being fully present with mommy (I must fix that!  But maybe she’s good luck by proxy…).

Monica Mae and Boo will be safe for the rest of their lives.  They have roots now.  They have a foster home and a loving team of volunteers who will care for them until a forever family is found for each.  They will never be homeless strays again.  Ever.

The bunny-daddy and I are moving soon so the concepts of home, roots and forever (or at least fixed-rate for 30 years) have been in the forefront of my mind for the past year or so.  Home can be simple.  Home can be turbulent.  Even those of us who have been fortunate to always have a physical house may experience moments (or longer) of feeling like a stray, like a sense of belonging is lacking, like roots do not exist.  Fortunately, I’ve never had to feel the physical state of being completely alone, in danger, cold, wet, hungry like Monica Mae and Boo surely felt over their weeks between abandonment and rescue.  But I’ve felt those things emotionally, sometimes in ripples, other times in waves and the occasional tsunami…

Even yesterday, my waves were crashing, right as the team was out saving Boo’s life, just some stuff causing rough seas in my head.  Nothing unmanageable.  Boo’s day yesterday helped me to calm my own seas.  Knowing that he survived in an environment that is designed for his peril reminded me that I can make it through whatever material nonsense was trying to drag me under.  Knowing that the same team who was saving his life are people I call colleagues and friends reminded me that I have people I can count on when I need a life preserver.  Knowing how easily Boo was rescued reminded me that it’s ok to ask for help and to reach for the tools I have to feel safe and composed, whether it’s a hug or a small brown bottle with a colored label in my purse.

I’m sure Monica Mae and Boo will have moments when it’s hard to trust and moments when they struggle to recognize their current blessed situation.  I know I do.  But they are safe forever—strays no more.  And they are my inspiration today as I continue to tackle just one task, just one wave at a time as I work a full-time job, manage a non-profit organization, run two small businesses and one small family that’s large on love.  No matter the challenge, I know I’m safe.  And I know sometimes I need to stop my hop and let someone scoop me into a carrier for safety, comfort and rest.  All is well, my friends.

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