Many years ago, Mom, Dad and I decided to leave the beautiful Hawaiian Islands and return to the mainland. I wanted to further my education and they went with me to reunite with the rest of our family in Arizona.
We had already shipped our belongings and were preparing to leave for the airport and board a plane. My cat, Snowflake, was waiting patiently in her kennel. My dad's Maine Coon cat, Chance, had not returned from his morning walk in the woods behind their house. Dad had been searching for hours while Mom did her best to get their bags packed. (Mom was in a wheel chair and blind.) I helped her get everything ready and into the car and then went in search of Dad and the missing cat.
Dad refused to leave without Chance. His neighbor offered to ship the cat for him, but Dad politely turned down the offer. Time passed, neighbors joined in the search and I was getting frustrated. My parents lived with me the last fifteen years of their lives and I loved them both dearly. But at that particular moment, all I could see was fifteen hundred dollars in tickets down the drain for the sake of a beloved pet. I was in a stew.
I could see my children waiting with Mom in the car. They looked worried and called out the window for the cat. If I wanted to catch that plane, I was going to have to be the bad guy.
I looked at my watch and sighed. Even breaking the speed limit, I could not get us to the airport in time. My heart sank. I was furious with the cat and not too happy with Dad. I told him brusquely that I was going back to the house to call the airline and see what could be done about our tickets. Dad said nothing and continued to look anxiously into the woods for the wayward cat. Just as I reached the front door I heard Dad shout. I turned to see Chance strolling out of the woods as if he had all the time in the world. Dad swooped him up into his arms and walked quickly to the car.
I didn't think we'd make it, but at least we would try. So, after chance was dumped unceremoniously into his crate, we raced to the airport. We arrived five minutes before our plane was scheduled for departure. We left Mom and the kids at the check in line and Dad and I ran to the cargo counter to check in the cats. Dad took a few precious minutes to give Chance his vet-prescribed travel sedative. By the time we got back to the ticket counter Mom had learned that our plane was delayed. I was much relieved until she said it was going to be a six hour delay! She went on to tell us that because she was in a wheel chair however, the airline was going to transfer us to another airline for the next available flight. We headed over to the other airline counter and the minute we showed up, we were treated like royalty. In fact, they put us in first class and we had a wonderful flight. Snowflake and Chance were transferred to our new Delta flight and were sleeping quietly in their kennels when we landed in San Francisco.
Dad always said that Chance was not "just a cat." He was intelligent, intuitive and wise in ways humans couldn't understand. Dad, who had only known dogs as pets all his life, considered Chance his friend.
After that experience, I looked at Chance and cats in general, in a whole new light. Cats live stress free lives because they choose to do so. I've never seen a cat in a hurry to do anything except to run from danger and even that is done with a silent, fluid grace that turns them into flying wraiths. They are not bound by the self-imposed restraints that we humans embrace. They let life take care of itself, enjoying and living in the moment. I'd like to learn to have the same attitude.
I learned a second valuable lesson from my father that day, too. There are some decisions in life that have a greater impact and value than others, and there is never a good enough reason to leave behind a friend, whoever that friend may be.
My current friend, Cosette.
No comments:
Post a Comment