Ramblings of an Inquisitive Mind

Well, my adventures continue!

Lately I have been thinking a lot about being where my body is. That is a hard thing to do 24 hours a day. In fact, it can be exhausting. Trying to train my mind to notice the small things, the everyday things I pass by a million times, seems impossible when I have such a tendency to live in my head, thinking. About what? Everything.

So I am headed home after work last night and I decide to call and talk to Kim. See how good I am at being where my body is? Not! I am driving down Cedar Shoals talking to Kim when I see him. I say to Kim, “Damn, there is a cat that has been hit and he’s still alive. I have to go back and get him.” She says, “Pick him up and take him to the vet and have him put down.” We hang up and I start looking for a place to turn around.

The traffic on Cedar Shoals is horrible at this time of day. I am finally able to pull over, turn around, and head back to my newfound friend. I am sure someone will have hit him again before I get back. I see him and pull into the next drive, then jump out of the truck and run to where he is. He is just sitting there, head up but not moving.

Now, how am I going to get an injured cat out of the middle of the road without either being mauled by the cat or being run over myself? I’m not sure if you’ve ever tried to help an injured animal, but they can hurt you, not out of meanness but out of pain. Dogs are bad but cats are another story. They are like tiny ninja warriors, teeth and claws flying. I don’t have anything other than my coat to throw over him. It is a new coat so I am not thrilled with this idea, but I will do it if need be.

I approach the cat and just talk to him. He seems dazed, still laying down with his head up but not moving. I notice a little blood under him but it doesn’t look too bad. Okay, so here goes. I reach for him, still talking to him. Touch him – scruff him – pick him up. He purrs. I head back to the truck, trying to keep myself and him calm. Get in the truck and Sylvia calls – she is on Cedar Shoals and will follow me to the vet. Good – always best to have a friend.

I call Kim back and ask her to call Dr. Smith and tell him I am on my way. I put the cat in the seat next to me and he doesn’t move for the whole trip. I begin thinking that maybe he died; I notice a little more blood on the seat. I get to the vet’s office a little before 6 – they close at 6. I reach over and scruff the little guy and he growls a little, but I pick him up and we head inside. He growls again once we are inside and the tech grabs a couple of towels and makes a kitty burrito, with him secured inside.

The vet has already left for the day but after a few calls he heads back to the clinic. We sit with the cat and talk about him. He is beautiful – intact and it appears that he only has an injury to the side of his face. He is very calm and just sits on the table as the tech tries to clean the wound. The vet comes in and takes a look at him. Then he looks at me. “What do you want to do? Do you want to save him or put him down?” I look at Sylvia, then back at the cat. I cannot do it. “See what you can do for him,” I say.

First he checks for feline leukemia and feline AIDS – that will give us a little info. He is negative, so now we work on getting him healthy.

He spends the night at the vet and I will check on him tomorrow. I am concerned about the cost because I am still trying to pay off hospital and chemo bills, but I just could not euthanize him. When I looked at him and realized that he was not injured beyond repair, the only thing I could see was his little man soul. I know some of you will think I’m crazy and you’re probably right. But I swear that is what I saw. Even though his eyes were shut and he was in rough shape, I just knew it wasn’t his time.

After I found Freddie, my friend Beth told me, “You are a poet, a playwright, an author, an artist, a rescuer of animals . . . You choose.”  Yes. Yes I am. I don’t know that I am choosing these things as much as they are choosing me. Because of fear, my creativity has been buried deep inside for many years, but now it cannot be contained. I am becoming the true me – the me I am meant to be. I think the animals also choose me. I have learned so much from each of them that my life becomes richer with each one. Each one is a beautiful living being who puts its trust in me – a being who is willing to love unconditionally. In the end, I guess that should be my goal also: to love unconditionally.