There is always a lot I want to write about and something to get out. My last post tells of the anxiety of salvaging everything of personal value from our family home, which my parents had to sell. It needed facelifts my parents couldn’t afford. Moving to an apartment is fine but my parents turned it into a desperate race. From the point of view of getting money’s worth, I said my parents should have held a few garage sales over the years, which would have whittled down volume too. I discovered recently, personal and loved things belonging to me in several places! I would have happily taken charge of everything pertinent to me, if Mom had told me she had it. She lost track of what she was storing for twenty and even as many as thirty-seven years, since we owned that house. We figured out there were some boxes she didn’t open there, or I would have kept my belongings together.
I monitored the books, teddy bears, dolls, and items I knew about by the time I was ten…. Sometimes expunging what I outgrew, keeping what mattered. I was stunned to rediscover others teddy bears and things that mattered! Mom should have gone through things periodically, insteading of leaving me in a mad dash to find important things. Ron & I, with help from one of our dearest friends, cleaned out handy household goods too. Nothing was wasted but each of us three kids should have been given our personal effects decades ago, so that it was only geneal family items to sift through. I’m summarizing how frenzied and time-consuming this was, especially with only cars to pack full per session and no truck, to explain why the push became daily, the final week the house was owned by my parents.
Whether my parents told my brother & sister-in-law we were working to remove what we needed, or it was obvious; I was relieved to find them courteous when we eventually ran into each other. I did what I needed in peace. They were very fair in our short chat about a few items they didn’t mind us keeping and respectful too, by asking where in the house I was finished so they could take items to donate. I said I was done with the basement and away they went. We three and my sister-in-law had the same goal for my parents: an uncluttered life in a place they could afford, meeting the needs of people their age. It can merely be hard for history-keepers like me and non-wasting mindsets to work with those on a mission to discard what they can. It worked out well that we pitched in at our individual convenience and there was no clashing when we met up.
In that week, I let my cats outside much less. They are housecats who have the freedom to be out in our country surroundings each day; forest smart but bonded with us and pampered. I like them inside before dark and the rare time I’m not home. Many neighbours let their cats out whether they’re home or not but I’m not comfortable with that. Unfortunately, on the last day cleaning my family home, where took me 11 hours on July 13; our boy Conan, did not come in before I left. He was by our door at 2:30PM but I couldn’t find him after I bathed and reluctantly left at 3:30PM. No doubt he was frustrated because they got a little jaunt each day, before I sifted for keepsakes and household items in the city. I am a worry-wort with my kitties but was sure he would be back when Ron came home at 7:30PM. Daylight hours our cats are always out. What’s more, the risk is low of anything being amiss the sole time we were away 4 hours, compared people leaving their cats out daily.
We searched and listened for an injured kitty, although most often they can walk home and would do so if injured. Our others would hear and find him even better than our searching, calling, and listening. The fact that Conan has been away means he is on a trip by choice. There is no reason to be near roads or people but we checked a wide perimeter of roads and alerted many neighours. He is registered with four lost cat places and there are pictures posted locally. The litterbox is out, which supposely lures cats home for a mile. Predators cross through any forest but we find them rare here. We are highly populated and there are a couple of cats who are outdoors here 24/7. Conan doesn’t like heat, I was away a lot for a week when he is used to me being home-based, and the weather hasn’t stopped being +30C. Ron feels when he wants to be home, or the weather stops being so darned enjoyable, or if he had a fight; he’ll be home.
Of course human nature worries about the worst. “What if the one time he was alone a few measely hours, a preditor came around in daylight”. No way! “What if someone has him in their house”. Ron thinks our friendly cat would be wary of people when his mind is alert to being in the forest for awhile. He certainly isn’t on vacation to be at someone else’s house but to be comfortable in the heat after being cooped up. It isn’t like the city either, where people might believe it is safer to take in an unknown cat. Ron & I come to the same conclusion about not being stuck in a house, with differing logic. I feel the kind of people who bring in a cat would pay attention to the signs I put up, even if some people don’t think of checking with humane society-type places. We will worry until Conan shows up at home. We know our worst fear is not being with us again. I call him every night and feel like crying, despite our thoroughly-discussed logic. But I successfully fight to remind myself that it is possible to presume the best! It allows me to enjoy our other cats, a few outings, our home and gardens and what makes summer nice.
In conclusion, however: Ron & I believe the happy outcome is more likely! Such few hours, daylight, the weather and…. Ron found a mouse at the library door the next morning. I asked him what time he put the other cats away and it was still light, with him walking back & forth through that door. I didn’t see one when I arrived home late that night either. I wonder if Conan heard me sobbing and beseeching him to be safe, no more than an hour before and this was his message that he was alive and well. It keeps pointing to him being on a walk by choice, even if he hadn’t taken off before. Part of me is confused because this isn’t like him. He loves to cuddle inside my arm every night when I read and insists on sleeping in our bed. However either our environment is more dangerous than we think or our closeknit cat is more capable of roaming than we think. Many people think any cat is willing to take a vacation is he got the chance and that they can be gone all summer without a problem.
I hope he’s home any day but have been asking friends to keep me boosted and encouraged, hanging on to faith. I have also asked everyone to pray and use whatever positive energy they believe in, to protect Conan so that he comes home safely. It is the only thing that matters and the rest of my days will be happy. Bidding farewell to my family home was fine and the ascension date of Conan’s brother, Love, on July 31 was fine. It is year three and I am at peace even with that. I only ask that my present generation of cats be with me and well for long lives. Ron & I have consulted God, angels, and worked physically to ensure this is so. I send my love and gratitude to all of you who help too. Love, Carolyn & Ron.