Home presents an illusion of safety. Our glass windows provide privacy and protection, our deadbolts and locks keeping harm out. That's the theory. Our presence in the home, with lights and activities, build the illusion. Illusion is about accepting what you will believe and not questioning it.
The Gingerbear King is home and safe again. The lump in his mouth has been removed. An infected tooth was found beneath it when it was removed. We have high hopes it's not cancerous.
As always, he defied their predictions. "He won't want to eat," they always tell us. We laugh. "He'll want to eat," we replied. "He'll stagger to his bowl and chow down." "Well, he can eat a little but don't let him eat too much." Sure. We will try.
The Gingerbear King arrived home and staggered for the bowl. He ate what was in there and begged for more. Eat and repeat, eat and repeat. A can was devoured within an hour of return. He staggered around more, tale down, offering soft complaints. Gradually the staggering lessened. The tail rose. More food was requested. A purr began. After six hours, the Gingerbear King was back.
What was interesting was the other cats' reactions to all of this. After Scheckter was put into his kennel and into the car, I fed them. They didn't want to eat. They stayed close and quiet all day, not demanding food or attention. I noticed it, then my wife noticed it, how odd they're acting. What do they think? I wondered. Were they thinking, "They disappeared him...we could be next."
Once he was back, they reverted to their normal behavior and eating habits. After spending the day inside, they wanted out, going out and lounging on the front porch as the air cooled and the sun set.
So all is well. My cat is back at home, with me, which makes him safe.
Causes Michael Seidel Supports
Kiva, Women's International League for Peace and Freedom, Propublica.org, Doctors Without Borders, GreaterGood.com