Our sprightly orange cat, George, turned up with a hurt paw yesterday. He protested when Andy and I examined the issue. It appears to be a small cut in the pad of his back right paw that causes him to not use that leg at all. He doesn’t seem all that bothered by it unless you point it out and then he is a angsty tween.
Andy left town this morning. He is gone for the week, wiring a cabin in the middle of nowhere without phone service. Margot was still asleep as he left before sunrise this morning. Dada one more hug and kiss! Ruby asked again and again as he knocked random food into a bag that he placed next to a small, ratty backpack of clothes.
We watched him pull away as George hopped across the kitchen. Oatmeal rumbled on the stove, espresso hissed, Margot woke up. I told the girls that George needed to stay inside today so his cut could heal up. I had tried to quarantine him in the garage while we did our morning animal in-out shuffle but his meowing was sad and Ruby had finally declared, “Mama, I am pretty sure George is freaking out.” So we let dude come in.
He waited for the right opportunity to make his escape. This took about seven minutes when, exactly as he predicted, one of my small children opened a door and forgot to shut it.
We didn’t see him for the rest of the day, which is really unusual. He’s a roamer but checks in. I thought about Olive a lot. I didn’t say anything to the kids until after dinner when I simply asked them if they’d seen George all day. They hadn’t, they said. I must have looked how I felt because Margot said, “I think he’s ok, mama. I think he’s just hoppin’ around the hill having a great night.”
The sun was settling behind the mountains and I looked at my pj-clad kids and asked them to put on their hiking shoes. Andy wasn’t there to stay with them so if I was going, they were too. “Let just go up there a little ways and see if we see George,” I said.
Margot and Ruby confessed they felt worried which deepened my worry because kids don’t just say they feel worry unless it is worrisome. The three of us (plus our canine bff of course) ascended through the whispering grass, under the barbed wire and we all turned right. I took notice of that. There was no talk of going straight or left. We all steered north.
Margot started running down the trail with Alice. Ruby walked with me. Margot stopped and waited for us to catch up. She said he was there. We were a good haul from our home and it was very unlikely he’d be up that far. I felt guilty for not keeping our injured pet inside and I felt silly for elevating my kids’ emotions right before bed. We stood there and listened to the creek, the symphony of birds and crickets.
Meow.
Margot and I darted our full moon eyeballs at each other. “Did you hear that?” I asked. “I did!” And she started climbing straight up a steep embankment toward a ponderosa pine. “He’s up here! I know it!”
Her tiny feet scrambled over loose rock. I urged her down. I’ve heard 11 million meows since Olive went missing. I imagine them all the time. I hear her in my garden, when I’m showering, on runs, while I sew. Everything sounds like a faint meow when you want it to.
We stood as still as we could, closed our eyes and listened. The air was cooling quickly, the loud din of birds and bugs made it seem impossible we’d heard George.
Meow.
It was faint and struggling and really hard to understand the direction. Again Margot insisted he was up the steep mountainside by the ponderosa. Ruby still wasn’t hearing it but started calling Georgie! Georgie! Come here boy! and making kissy noises. I thought he must be closer to our home and I suggested we make our way back down.
“No. Mom. He’s up there.”
Margot was certain. So we stayed. Many minutes passed. The sun slipped out of sight and I questioned what we’d heard. I was now holding Ruby, her sleepy cheek on my shoulder.
MEOW.
There was no mistaking it that time. We all started yelling and calling and cheering, scanning the hill. Even Alice danced. The tall grass seed heads waved dramatically in the wind, like thousands of George cat tails. It was crazy-making.Β Where the hell was he?
Finally, we saw his furry body WAY up the hill, slowly making his way down. Right above that ponderosa pine, right above where Margot stopped. My girls started squealing and climbing on their hands and knees as Georgie waltzed and became more and more real. Margot sangΒ I knew it George! I just knew it!
I scooped him up, we all purred into a group hug. And we made our way home.
33 Comments
Meow indeed. Imagine if we all stayed believing in ourselves as Margot believes in herself; imagine if we never lost our confidence, our strong gut feel… our knowing. Incredible and lovely story. And all the more beautiful because it was done in pyjamas!
Ali in Switzerland, loving your story
aw so glad he is okay xxxxx
What an amazing story. With a happy ending to boot. Margot you are one awesome little chick! Thank goodness George is home safe and sound! Great story telling Nici. You had me holding my breath xxx Sarah
love. xo
I’m so glad you found him! Such a great story!!
You tell one good story Burb….I love a happy ending too!
xoxo, Mom
ps…perhaps it was a PAWderosa! π
What a magical tale!
Connections with animals are astounding……. especially with children. That’s a special kitty right there!!
We just lost our orange cat.
What a way to embed care and compassion in your family and world. I imagine you’re kids will always remember the night they went looking for George and how following one’s intuition can lead one to what they are looking for.
Oh I am so sorry you lost your cat. It is so hard. xo
oh GEORGE!
π
Yay for Margot, yay for George, yay for you being Mama to them all.
Oh! I hope THIS is the type of writing you’re doing in your book. These stories. Oh! They are wonderful and full of life. So engaging.
I’m delighted the orange kitty is safe!
I hope so too! Thanks. π
You all deserve a happy ending! So glad you found him safe and sound.
Jaim
Why didn’t you take him to a vet if his paw was injured? Instead you just let him back out? Honestly, why do you people own animals?
Awe. Well, I can assume you don’t read my blog much to know just how much we love and care for our pets. So let me tell you just that. Of course if he needs medical attention we will take him in. As I mentioned above, it’s a small cut that will heal and he snuck out.
Thanks for taking the time to comment. I especially appreciate productive, benefit-of-the-doubt, well-intentioned dialog here in my online space.
Warmly,
Nici
Nici – you are one graceful lady. I hope you and your girls are having some great adventures today. Cheers mama!
classy, classy, classy!
Loved this story. Intuition is a marvelous thing!
Geez, I don’t see this much in your space. Your temper is admirable Nici.
And yes, I think we have so many senses that get dulled-down as adults. Will your book be a collection of stories like these?
Hey, VS, you’re outta line… this is the lady who took a chicken to the vet!! Do not throw stones.
I’ve been through this so many times, thanks to the Lady, the guardian angel of wayward kitties, for a happy ending. <3
I’m tearing up thinking about you and your girls looking for your kitty. So glad you found him! And it just occurred to me that your cats have the same names as my mother’s beloved parents, the sweetest couple of all time, George and Olive. I like to think that someday Olive will be chilling on your doorstep all, “Hey, just came back from a bit of an adventure. I’ll fill you in later.”
Nici, I love this story. And I love your reply above about dealing with George’s injury. He is such a lucky cat to have you all as his family. I am with you on the ‘watch and wait’ when a minor injury presents itself. You love him and know him so well. As you have in your parenting of the girls, you’ve become a keen observer, a watcher and listener, intuitive- knowing how to discern between those wounds, subtle shifts in behavior and even the quiet stoicism- which requires medical attention or just simple to ‘watch and wait.’ Thank you for sharing this beautiful story.
What a great happy ending – I’m so glad you all followed Margot’s instinct and George found you!
Yay for happy endings and the enduring faith of a little girl in search of her kitty. π
Hoo.Ray.
Let me try that again, with more enthusiasm: Hoo. Ray!!! π
Love it! I was hoping that’s how the story would end…I was kind of holding my breath there for a bit. So glad the kitty is safe and sound! =]
Super glue works, but then I am not a vet. Tho I am a mom. Oh poor Lily.
Oh I love a good story. I’ll admit my heart was beating faster at points just thinking of Olive.
Oh, whew! I’m particularly fond of tabbies (we have two, one of which is an orange guy). They’re entirely indoor cats, but they’ve snuck out a time ir two. Always nerve-wracking. Cheers to M for sticking to her gut!
Thank you for listening so well to your children… and your animals! They have so much to tell us, don’t they? We should all practice this as well as you do. Here’s to a speedy kitty recovery!
Oh my goodness, what a story. Those littles of yours are amazing, thank you for sharing their stories! Happy George is home safe!