Last weekend was beautiful. The sun shining bright. Peg warming herself on the windowsill.
Monday brought overcast skies and preparations for Brian’s travel. Peg hid to avoid the hustle & bustle. I don’t see her again.
In that early evening I noticed the front door standing open. Happens all the time. Really must fix that door soon.
The day ends with an early bedtime.
Up early the next day. Brian heads for the airport. I fall into the routine Peg & I established long ago; bathroom, kitchen, cat food, coffee, cat pan, cat snack. But where’s Peg?
Under the bed? Behind the curtains? On or under the dining room chairs? No. No. No.
Then I remember the open door. God no.
I run to the front door, fling it open. No Peg. I call out. No Peg. I run to get the container of cat snacks. Shaking the container I begin the walk all around the property in my bathrobe. I check the neighbor’s property, the park across the street, the alley behind the house. No Peg. The rain begins. Raindrops are wetting the sidewalks, tapping on windows, beating down on my brain.
Fliers are made and posted “LOST, 3-LEGGED CAT”. Rain, and more rain.
We all carry our own inner rain.
It’s welling up now. The tide rising. “I’m so sorry Peg. I wish I had checked outside before closing the door. You must have been frightened. I was not there to smooth away your fear.”
The tide rises higher, drowning my heart. “You must have been cold last night. I was not there to wrap you in my warmth. I’m so, so SORRY.”
The downpour comes. Floodgates open. Grief pours out.
The day ends, another begins. Still raining.
The days of the week have all washed out with the tide. I feel its pull on my heart.
The sun shines again,
though not as brightly.
Our sweet Peg disappeared last Monday. Though I remain hopeful that she will find her way back to us, I am also preparing myself for her loss. If she has died, I pray her death was swift and painless. If she is being kept by someone else, I pray they give her all the love she deserves.