Taking Shelter

We are like hurricanes - we gather strength, then falter, change direction, gather strength again. We don't always know where we're headed - whether to make landfall or die out in the gulf and while we swirl and threaten and strut, life goes on in spite of us. It seems to me that there is always a storm waiting to be born somewhere and we have to choose between taking shelter or fighting our way through.

On my personal radar, I discover that most, although not all, of my storms have been brewed internally and that I can determine their course more than I care to admit. Most, although not all, will wear themselves out if I don't take them too seriously and most, although not all, will do just small damage.

I kept Nicky's death this past weekend mostly to myself, not wanting to put it on display, not wanting to have to justify the emotional mayhem it caused me, not wanting to talk about it. I wrote about it, hoping that some of the pain might dissipate, but when it didn't, I came home to my remaining animals and took shelter with them. They know I left with a cat in my arms and returned without one but their lives remain unchanged - even if they knew the pain I feel each time I put out six food bowls rather than seven, they would not understand. Still, I find comfort just in their being.
In that they do not understand loss or grief, they will never know the callousness of hearing the words, It was just a cat, or the well intentioned but slightly mystified, Sorry, usually followed by a quick exit. When you need them the most, words often have a way of not coming easily if at all.

I don't have or own or keep animals - I share my life, my happiness and my sorrow with them. I care for them and tend them as the precious, fragile and temporary beings that they are. In return, they stay by my side as long as God allows then I give them into His care. It was marginally easier with Nicky, his illness was gut wrenchingly apparent and I could not allow him additional suffering. This was no small storm but a hurricane of the first magnitude.

As they are all cast offs or strays or foundlings, I have never been there when they come into the world. It's a hard gift to be there when they leave it but a gift nonetheless.