I mentioned yesterday that this past decade has been dark and difficult, beyond what I ever thought I could endure. It has been a cycle of continual loss, heartache, and loneliness. It all began in 2011 when my husband of 15 years abandoned our marriage. A year later, I had to sell my property and walk away from the life I had created, along with so much that I had loved. Through it all, I had my two female cats as my loving companions. The foundation of my life continued to collapse beneath me; however, and in 2014 I lost them both to coyotes – within ten days of each other. Having had a cat for my entire adult life, the strange silence was unbearable. I was able to soften the devastating grief by adopting a 7-year old Main Coon. I named him Rumi (after the 13th century Persian poet) but I was careful to keep my heart at a distance. I believed I could never love him as much as the two females I had lost.
For the next seven years, Rumi was beside me through numerous more trials, challenges, and moves. We made the 1,200 mile journey to Arkansas this past February so that I could begin a new job and hopefully, a new life; but my challenges were far from over. I had to make the 1,200 mile return trip back to Wyoming in July, after a cruel and unexpected termination of the position that I had moved to Arkansas for. It was the middle of July, 90°F. and 90% humidity. With my mattress and box spring loaded once again atop my truck, I was finally loaded and ready to leave by late afternoon. I drove about 100 miles before finally stopping at a rest stop outside of Little Rock. True to form, Rumi had lost control of bowels and bladder in his carrier. I let him out into the cab of my truck so that I could clean his kennel and so that he could stretch his legs and drink some water, while I walked up to the restroom. I was weary and had not eaten all day so I did not notice that the mattress had inched away from the slightly open back window. When I returned from the restroom, Rumi was nowhere to be found. I walked all around, calling for him, in shock and disbelief. It eventually grew dark and I had no choice but to keep going – without him.
I seemed to be travelling in a nightmare from which I could not awake. It felt as though someone had reached into my chest and plucked out my heart. I have had to stay with my daughter for the previous 3 ½ months, looking and waiting for a place of my own. The grief I was immersed in, in an unfamiliar place, felt surreal. Someone suggested that maybe Rumi was stolen. I prefer to cling to that idea because if someone had gone to the trouble of taking him, they would probably take good care of him; but all alone, in a noisy rest stop next to a highway, he barely stood a chance. He had no survival skills and he was no longer a young cat.
I worked feverishly to get settled into my new home. I needed another cat to fill the gaping hole that losing Rumi had left in my life. Sunday night, my new feline companion came to live with me in my new home. He is a 5 or 6 month old kitten, who was sickly and scrawny when found and rescued about a month ago. He is thriving now and I know he is the one that was meant to be with me. He is mostly black, but looks like he has been dropped in a bucket of white paint, rendering his chest and paws snow white. I have decided to call him Adélie, after the Adélie penguin. I know that I will grow to love him, as I grew to love Rumi. My love for my previous cats lives now only in my memory. I cannot be with those cats I have loved, so I will love the one I am with.
