Read Ahead
Xena was/is a black and white beauty with engaging bluish green eyes and a heart so full of love I could cry thinking about it. On June 10, 2003 I did one of the stupidest things of my life, I brought Xena, an indoor cat, outside to brush her. The fur of my girls has a toll on my allergies and on this day it was bad. I thought she’d be fine. I had done this with Honey a 100 times, a quick brush on the front steps and poof, I have a prettier, less furry cat. Well I had never done this with Xena and she was wigged out. A neighbor came up the steps and freaked Xena out, she squirmed and squirmed, and before I knew it she was out of my grip. I still wonder if I purposely let her go, or if she just got out of my grip on her own. I have gone over this split second so many times. I think I might have thought she would run under the nearby bush, I never thought she’d run away. Once out of my grip she just darted in the direction she was facing, straight down the sidewalk, pass the postman who said, “man I have never seen a cat run so fast.” I was screaming. “STOP HER!” Her body was crouched so close to the ground. She ran through a yard and to the back of a house, it was when she, in her own acrobatically perfect and beautiful way, jumped a fence that I lost her out of my sight never to see her ever again.
When I was a little girl I got my first cat, Ginger, (Yes my porn first name is Ginger; the whole name is Ginger Torchwood, nice, huh?) Ginger was very delicate and very pretty. She was a Himalayan Seal Point; she only liked me. She was shy and timid and skittish. When I had the Chicken Pox she slept at my feet the entire week of the pox. Ginger had a short life battling feline leukemia. My mother and I had to put her to sleep. I still remember the cream-colored sweater and green jacket my Mom bought me right after.
In college I lived with two cats that were being raised by two women, my roommates, not qualified to be feline mothers (Lord help us if they have children today.) These cats and I had an understanding, mine was: I don’t like you and will swat your ass when I find you on the kitchen counter; theirs was, we don’t like and we'll pee on your clothes. After this experience I vowed to never be a cat Mom. Three years later my new roommate brought home a kitten, against my wishes. Thank God the kitten was cute, otherwise I would have protested. We named her Coco Chanel, but called her Cha-ney-ney. Poor Cha-ney-ney grew up to be a retard.
In 1997, months after parting ways with that roommate and Cha-ney-ney, I realized I did want to be a cat Mom and that’s when Xena came into my world. I rescued Xena from a shelter in St. Paul MN, the shelter director almost didn’t let me have her as she was her favorite kitty, (if that woman knew what has since happened, I’m sure she’d have my head.) The first two weeks of having Xena, she slept in my closet. She was freaked out. I gave her space and time. Eventually she started coming out at night to join me in bed. She snuggled up next to me and purred, I suspected that she was saying Thank you. Within the month Xena and I were tight and understood that we were each other’s one and only. I know that sounds corny, but in all honesty I can tell you that every time I looked at her, I thought “I have given her a better life” and my heart swelled knowing she was so happy. She gave me kisses and snuggles and always sat on my lap.
A few years later my Grandpa, a huge cat fanatic, passed away, leaving behind my ever so cute Grandma and his beloved Honey. My Grandma asked me if I’d be willing to take Honey into my home, as she was crying constantly, getting under her feet and biting her butt. Honey adores attention. After months of hemming and hawing on the issue, Xena and I finally decided to take her. Poor Honey was always second fiddle to Xena. We took care of her, but she knew that Xena was the Queen Bee. Soon though the two were the absolute best of friends. Xena, being a very clean and tidy cat, groomed the scruffy Honey. Although they both had their own beds, rarely would they be separated. Often they were crunched in one bed together, lezzing out. Again my heart swelled. Every time I left and returned home Xena was on my lap immediately, it was very funny. She insisted on sitting on my lap for hours while I was working on the computer, or at the television. She was clued to me the majority of the time. I was always so proud of my accomplishment with her. I knew she was very timid at first, and I worked with her that first month to have her gain my trust and she did, I felt really happy about that.
The moment I lost Xena, I thought I would never have children. I couldn’t imagine what Mothers do when their babies go missing. How horrid. It’s the not knowing that is so tragic. Once I lost Xena over the fence, I called my Mother immediately, all I could think was “Moms fix everything, My Mom will fix this.” I was uncontrollable. She didn’t know what to do. I was astonished and angry. I demanded she come over and find my cat, to shell out money to some magical-ness to get her back, to do something. She came over and looked with me. We even brought Honey with us in a carrier, hoping Xena would smell her scent and come out of her hiding spot. I put up signs. I stayed up all night.
For the rest of that Summer I looked for her. In total I posted 750 signs. When it stormed I reposted my signs. I told friends if they wanted to see me then they’d better put their walking shoes on as the only way they could spend time with me was to look for my cat. I met so many neighbors, so many, I was becoming a celebrity….people who’d meet me on the street would say, “oh you are the one who lost her cat.” I’d hear stories how people would walk with stray cats back to their homes only to realize that the cat they found looked nothing like the picture….another story was a woman who captured a cat in her car and drove it to my apartment, but it was the wrong cat and now the woman was screwed. “Oh God,” she said, “I stole someone’s cat.” I looked at so many cats… people just grabbed sick or lost kitties and brought them in their homes, fed them and hoped it was my girl. While this sentiment was overwhelming in the most positive of ways and gave me much faith in my fellow humans.....I couldn't help but think how strange it is that most of us will pick up stray, sick felines and canines, but look the other way when it comes to a human being.
Since my phone numbers were posted on the signs, I also received a plethora of phone calls about Xena. In general most calls were from kind people, but not always. I received a call from a man telling me that if I wanted to see my cat alive I’d better meet him at 2:00 in the morning. Another call was a man telling me that his friends have my cat and they were torching her, he told me he wouldn’t tell me where she was because he didn’t think I really cared about my cat. And another call was a woman telling me that the Lord is watching over us and she was going to pray for me. She was a slight nut, but I appreciated her sentiment, thanked her and assured her that I had already lit a million candles at the Basilica in honor of Xena. And that is not a lie. I would light candles every three days and go to church, I even talked to a priest about it. He told me that the best thing I could do is be there for Honey. He made me realize that since I had lost Xena I had been ignoring Honey, only acknowledging her to feed her. But I wouldn’t pet her or let her get near me. The Priest reminded me that she too was missing Xena and needed to be told it was okay. I felt so ashamed and I felt like Honey was really angry with me. That day we made up and snuggled.
The entire experience was wicked. I kept trying to find meaning in it and tried to gain true understanding from people. Most everyone didn’t get it. They had little sympathy, but were always polite and did their best to help. It was hard explaining how I felt. I made friends with so many strangers that would help me look for Xena. I kept wondering why. I even would try and make a difference in their life. One fellow I made friends with told me how lonely he was. I started inviting him everywhere and tried to get him a girlfriend, eventually he went back to being a hermit. Soon though I made one of my very best friends, whom I believe is the reason for why this happened. I had an acquaintance in the neighborhood that had cat-sat for me once and when she saw the signs she called me to help. She was the first Peron that truly understood, she would just talk to me in great detail about everything. She also was the first person who pushed me to move forward and to go to a party. Today that girl and I are very close. I adore her.
By August I was at my wit’s end. I was irate that 750 signs turned up no information. I did something crazy, I turned to a pet psychic. Now I’m not saying I completely believe this….who really knows…as I said I was at my wit’s end, I was psycho for answers….what the psychic told me was sad. She said that Xena was afraid of the sky and she didn’t understand why I had her outside. She was afraid of the sky!!! She said that Xena sat under a deck for five days and finally came out at night for food, only to be killed instantly by something big. She didn’t know if it was a dog, or a car, she said it wasn’t human. She told me that Xena’s spirit had been with me the whole time and that it was really hard for her to see me leave to look for her when she was there the whole time. Xena wanted me to acknowledge her. The psychic told me that Honey had seen her spirit and was wigged out. The funny thing is the day that had supposedly happened, I kid not, Honey was acting really strange, as if something were there. I then proceeded to talk to Xena, I begged her to forgive, and I was uncontrollable. Sobbing. No one would ever know. I kept this pretty well hidden, as it does seem a little nutty.
Well if you read this far, thank you. That is the story of Xena. Now please go give your own pet a huge hug and kiss. Miss Honey and I are going to snuggle a bit. We have become quite close, funny thing though, although we snuggle often, she won’t ever sleep or jump on my lap, it’s like she still knows, my lap is Xena’s spot.
