All week long I’ve been intending to write the spring newsletter for my nonprofit, Coastside Feral Care, but I’ve been having trouble getting started. I’ve done enough of these to know that most people want to hear the glad tidings! The happiest stories – not the failures or the heartbreaks of your rescue work.
But this week I’ve also been dealing with a disappearance, and that has derailed me and made it hard to “think happy.” Beautiful Prince Harry (see two posts ago) showed up Monday looking like he felt crummy, and then vanished. This is after more than three years of rarely missing a meal. His faltering came on the heels of someone writing a complaint about him on Next Door – saying cats should not be fed “so close to restaurants”… which are way across the parking lot. I did my best to answer civilly, and got a lot of supportive comments. Then Harry turned up sick. And by the next day, when I brought a carrier to take him to the vet, he was gone.
I’ve never thought much of human beings in general, but even I can’t imagine someone poisoning Harry, a homeless cat who minds his own business except for the occasional nap on the sidewalk on a sunny afternoon. So I choose to think something else has happened. What I also refuse to consider is that I won’t ever see him again. He has always been such a bright spot in my morning. And he has many fans – people who work in the offices nearby and delight to see him waiting in the tree for his meal. So I posted a flyer on the fence for my missing boy – something I’ve never done before – and hope maybe one of his fan club will spot his strawberry mane amid the brambles of the ravine.
I talked to a friend who does rescue, and she wondered if such disappearances – and I’ve had dozens – have gotten easier since 2011 when I took up this cause. I thought a moment and then tears welled up. “No,” I said, “they never do. And goddamnit I wish they would.”
I go through the classic Kubler-Ross stages of grief each time. Right now I’m in anger – that there are still no adequate facilities for homeless/feral cats (except the pound, where they wouldn’t last a day), and that I get harassed sometimes for keeping them alive and showing them kindness. But mostly I get sad, as I am right now, that once again a cat in my care may have perished, and that the “care” I give them is so limited in scope. Then again, if he really is gone for good, I am comforted in knowing I did my best for Prince Harry. And I’ll get back to the happy stories eventually.
Like Frodo, the kitty who was abandoned on the farm where I feed. He went from getting whomped on by the farm cats to sitting on the lap of an elderly woman who cherishes him… Now, if I could only focus on such things…
Dear Jane,
When tragedy becomes easier, we have lost our heart. It’s heartache to suffer, but that is what keeps one putting one foot in front of the other in the work one is called to do. You have a huge heart, my friend. May you continue to do your good work. You make a difference in the world. With love and gratitude to a true friend and compassionate being.
Dear Jane,
Our family has had a challenging year, thus far. The only bright light has been the constant love and entertainment of our two feral girls, Lizzie and Sister. Our entire family is so grateful for the work you do, and entrusting us to spoil them.
They are truly special, just like their foster-mom.
May you find comfort in all those you save/help, whether the walk on two legs or four. God bless.
Much love & gratitude,
The Trigueiro 7
Jane, what the Trigueiro family said. I am adding my voice and applause to your work on behalf of the well-being of cats, Baudelaire is a gem and I give Thanks weekly for his presence in my home. He’s soooo awesome! He’s charming and still makes me laugh daily. He is loved and adored.
I’ve often thought how hard your work must be.
Mr. B and I say thank you from SF.
I fail to understand why people are so uncaring and ugly to animals and all other living creatures.
I’m glad I do t understand. If I understood, I would have to live in their shoes.
So. I’m glad I don’t get it.
🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻❣️
THANKS, all of you, for the incredibly kind and thoughtful responses. Still no sign of Harry, and I’m moving past anger into grief and (almost) acceptance. It will take a while before I’m willing to stop putting his food dish down every morning.