The Return of Mugglesworth

She rounds the corner like a runaway freight train, skids to a stop in front of the small brown dog then leaps over her and dives under the bed. There's a brief but vocal confrontation with another cat, then she streaks out - long, lean, low to the ground and moving so fast she's just a blur of tiger stripes and whiskers. Mugglesworth is home.

Somewhere along the road of life I took a wrong turn and became unable to refuse an animal in need. I never intended to be caregiver to seven cats and two dogs - I had a plan that involved quiet nights with music playing and books, being able to turn in my sleep without disturbing a half dozen cats, a pillow to myself, being able to eat in peace and sleep late. Instead, I manage my time around my animals, share my entire life with them, tolerate litter boxes and projectile vomiting, panic at the first sign or injury or illness, and can't imagine living any other way.

A few years ago I was driving home to let the dogs out and as I was about to turn a corner, a small
dog raced in front of me. I slammed on my brakes and turned the steering wheel violently, ending up mid street, inches from a stop sign and with the front half of the car on the sidewalk. The dog was
happily running in circles around the car, barking and seemingly well pleased with himself. He had no collar or tags but was wearing a bow made of red ribbon. Resigned, I put him in the car. He was clean and well cared for, the bow was only slightly dusty, and he didn't resist. I thought he must live nearby and that surely someone would be looking for him so I drove around the neighborhood in hope of finding his home. When that didn't work, I took him back to work with me.

During the course of the afternoon he became the talk of the store. Eventually, a customer recognized him, knew where he lived and called his owner who arrived in tears and shaking with relief. All's well that ends well, we said, happy to see the reunion.

So Muggs is home and all's right with the world. It's Christmas and my small house is filled with the ones I love.