Kit Cat Came Back

My Perspective:

I didn’t realize anything was wrong at first. Woke up around 7:30AM on a Sunday and usually Kit Cat will be running around the living room, making irritating noises, or using my chest as a trampoline to encourage me to get up faster and feed her. None of that happened which isn’t unusual. Sometimes she finds a really good hiding spot and simply wants to bask in her mysterious glory for a while. Not this time though. This time she was gone. Like…GONE gone.

She hadn’t made a noise that morning or, as I call it, revealed herself. I tried to keep my mind off of assuming the worst or catastrophizing a situation. She’s just hiding in the house somewhere, I told myself, nothing to get all worked up about.

The Vikings’ kickoff was at 10AM, so I scarfed my breakfast, pulled on my Delvin Cook #33 jersey, and headed into town after leaving her some food. My plan was to come back at halftime and discover a portion of the food missing with the cat doing backflips or something to make fun of me for worrying. I’d feel a rush of relief, then go back in to finish the game.

Well, when I got home not only was the food untouched, but Kit wasn’t doing backflips or running up and down the walls with her cat magic. That’s when my booty really started puckering up. I opened up all the closets and doors and searched all the nooks and crannies. Nothing. Nada. Zilch. Then I racked my mind as to how in the HELL she get out? She’s escaped once before, but I saw her and ran her ass down. So, there’s already a fair amount of paranoia and I always, always double check to close my back door.

The night prior I had some friends over to hangout in the Peacock Lounge (an empty pool with a fire pit and furniture inside). We were in and out of the house, but usually Kit is so scared she’ll just hide away until the coast is clear. Sure enough, she came out after everybody left. Our go-to move is I kick my legs up on the ottoman when I’m playing video games and she nestles in between my big fat thighs to enjoy their warmth.

I recall playing video games and relaxing with her. Of course, I should specify that there was a decent amount of drinking done prior to this point and maybe conversations with dear old Mary Jane. Also, living out in the country allows me the luxury to save water by stepping outside and piddling on a nearby tree or bush.

This is when I believe she made her escape, which still baffles me. Even in my slightly inebriated state, I knew to shut the door. I’m paranoid about it as much as locking my keys inside the car. I hold it closed every time because it has a bad habit of not locking itself shut and drifting ajar. Somehow, someway…she darted out in the split second the door was open for me to get in or out. That’s why it was extra difficult accepting she’d escaped and was, indeed, outside. It was 110% my fault. If she never returned, or died, or any other horrible calamity…it’s all on me.

Panic shifted into my present and compounded the weight of Kit’s absence on my heart. And for those who don’t know, Kit Cat is a munchkin Tabby cat. She’s not even 8 pounds, cute as a button, and an easy morsel to be gobbled up by the coyotes, bobcats, snakes, or birds of prey out here in the country. That’s why I’d never let her outside alone. She’s so tiny and frail and now she’s out alone without me to protect her.

For hours I walked around our country property ringing her bell, yelling, “Kit Cat!” and whistling for her. As if my thoughts weren’t horrible enough, the reality was she’d been out for hours already. Which direction she went, how far she went, and if she was even still alive were all miserable questions floating around my worry-plagued mind.

My friend Ivan and his wife Victoria came out to help look and offered solace. They were hopeful she’d come back and trusted in the survival instincts of cats. But this is Kit…her survival instincts are a whopping zero. She traded them in for cuteness when she was creating her character. I wanted to hold onto hope she’d be in a bush or curled up scared not too far away. In this instance, hope felt like I was lying to myself. Hope felt like poison and the only antidote was accepting she was dead and moving forward. Because that’s freaking easy to do, right?

I’m not sure when someone should give up hope in a situation like this. Never have I been one to simply ‘give up’ or encourage others to not be hopeful about any instance in life. With Kit, I didn’t want to give up hope, but the reality of the situation was clear as day. Maybe I was catastrophizing and calling it ‘reality.’ The situation just had no silver linings, no takeaways, and made me feel like I’d never get a pet again after her.

Seriously, I was the epitome of ‘pit of despair.’ I’d cancelled hosting trivia for the day at Hooby’s Brewing (thanks Gary for filling in), filled up a flask of Wild Turkey, and kept wondering around the property for hours. I crept through bushes, trees, searched far and wide and found nothing. Dread consumed me the way my imagination convinced me a wild beast had consumed Kit. I resolved that if there was any hope for her coming back into my life, it’d be on her. Control was not mine, all I could do was have faith she’d come back.

The day grew darker and colder crumbling any chance of Kit surviving. Then the rain came at sunset and my thoughts of Kit – if she was even still alive – dwelled on the image of her curled up in a little ball, cold and wet and starving wondering why her human let this happen to her. The cherry on top, of course, was reminding myself it was all my fault. No way I’d let the seconds pass by without reminding myself of that.

Eventually, I forced myself to have dinner. I tried to watch some shows or distract myself, but anytime I’d try to laugh, I’d feel guilty for it. My cat’s out there in the cold darkness and I’m laughing? It was just miserable.

My last-ditch effort was a multi-tiered approach. I left the back door she escaped from open, left her food outside under my planter so it wouldn’t get wet, I had my laundry hamper and her scratch tower near the doorway, and left the light on to guide her home. Hopefully her senses would trigger her and she’d find her way back. Of course, I slept on my couch near the door and stayed up as long as I could.

Every rustle of leaves, movement of some other animal outside, or noise would prod my heart with hope. I’d peer up and see nothing. Slowly, I pondered what life without her would be like. I’m so used to her mannerisms, noises, where I walk and where she likes to dart to get in my way…a life cadence with one another. We have a routine, a symbiotic relationship, Kit Cat and I. Trying to get used to that reality without her hurt and luckily sleep offered some reprieve.

I woke up cold and checked the door – nothing. I checked my phone – 3:30AM. Kit wasn’t back, and I just couldn’t believe this happened to me. To Kit. She didn’t deserve some dipshit owner leaving the door open for her to escape. My light reached far out of the doorway into the darkness. Beyond light’s reach, however, was the cold uncertainty of fate wearing its favorite color of black. For hours it waited, pondered, considered sending my cat back to me. Do we give Aaron some happiness – I imagine fate thought to itself – or kill the cat for her curiosity? It’s 2023, there are no happy endings anymore.

Then something woke me up. A murmur. A noise I knew all too well because Kit doesn’t ‘meow.’ No, she has her own dialect. The murmur tumbled me out of sleep, onto the floor, and on my knees. I look up and there she was standing in the doorway.

“Kit…” I whisper creeping closer, as slowly as possible. She had every opportunity to run back out the door into the darkness. I flanked her left side and she eventually darted into the house. Quick as I could, I slammed the door shut and locked it. Then I chased her around the house to scoop her up and make sure this was really happening. That this was real. That Kit had come home! As you can imagine…I was absolutely bawling my eyes out. In this day and age where there seems to be no hope or such thing as a happy ending, I got one. Feeling hopeless before Kit coming back at 4:30AM. She must have cashed in a life, and I know my little bug has 8 left.

I poured out her food and she just ate and ate and ate. When I sat down, she took her spot between my big fat thighs to soak in their warmth and relaxed…like NOTHING happened…the little shit. Makes me feel like…“So happy you’re home Kit, it’s a shame I’ll have to KILL YOU MYSELF!”

Alas, no murders were necessary. She’s been more affectionate than ever the last couple days. Maybe it’s because of the cold, maybe it’s because she’s learned, as I have, how important it is to be in one another’s lives after how much time we’ve spent together. We’re each other’s guardians and I can’t tell you how many times she’s rescued me from those awful thoughts and feelings of loneliness.

Seriously, in her absence, my mind was so used to hearing her noises. The murmurs, the sneazes, the soft crunch of her trot atop the carpet. My constant worry for her turned my head downward every time I closed a door because I don’t want her getting crunched. For the day she was gone, I’d look down out of habit and feel awful because there was no reason to worry crunching a cat that was no longer here with me. Now that she’s back, I can keep on worrying with a smile on my face every time I close a door.

As I write this, she’s sitting on my lap licking her paw. I’m not sure how I’ll be able to write when she really is gone. But that’s not being present-minded. Hell no, it’s not. She’s here now and I believe for a long time yet. My little guardian demon. She’s back and I couldn’t be happier 

Kit’s Perspective:

Okay, the biggie is going in and out to mark his territory and breath fire. The portal will be open only so briefly, and once it is, I’ll transform into smoke using my cat magic and seep out.

C’mon, Kit, you got this. There he goes, he’s about to open the portal. NOW!

Swiiiiiiiiishhhhhhh. Okay, I’m outside. The biggie closed the portal. He’s unaware. Thinks I’m hiding inside. Worry not, biggie, I’ll be back. My instincts have drawn me out here into the wild. It needs to be explored and my instincts have been driving me crazy to do this. It’s a ringing in my ears that won’t go away, an itch impossible to scratch cooped up inside. Cruel and unusual the torture is sitting on window seals and glaring at the squirrels, peacocks, deer, wind-ruffled trees, and all of nature’s beauty. Yet, an invisible force blocks me from it all, my destiny and my nature. It’s in my nature to be in nature, darn it! The biggie doesn’t understand how I NEED to be outside every once in a while.

Well, now I AM outside. It’s dark but I see it so, so well. Not as well as my kin, unfortunately. A side effect of being imprisoned inside. It feels as if I’ve come home. Leashless, unbound, free.

Off I scurry into the weeds nearby. The bushes, the trees, the river I can sense along with the fish inside. Wait, there’s otters in there too. Their presence is loud to me, as are the predators around here. Good thing I am small and still.

The life force of all radiates in a way those poor biggies can’t comprehend. Smells have colors, sounds have life and meaning, movement and touch of dirt, rocks, and trees is feeling nature’s canvas. My cantering across it all is my own kind of cursive upon that canvas, leaving my story behind me which has only just begun.

Gone is my physical body as I become the scent of Rosemary floating into the sky and flying with the wind. For hundreds, no, thousands of miles I traverse. Countless times I change from scent to scent, passing through biggies’ noses, feeling their thoughts and emotions, and passing back out in a breath. I gather so much knowledge about these other biggies. There’s hate, love, fear, trust, even affection for other cats.

From scent to sound I bounce through the dimension humans can’t see or comprehend. A few of them understand though. Well, barely. They meditate to reach this plane. They come here when they dream, but have no control. Us cats come and go as we please and it’s all energy here – the flow between all living things.

I spend hours floating around here bouncing from thought to thought as my spectral self. Then I spend hours more in this place called Lake Tahoe. There’s a salmon run and my goodness do they look tasty in that glistening, translucent water. It’s amazing, beautiful, and tragic as they fight upstream toward their purpose. They know it, accept it, and keep on pushing.

Simply dwelling amongst them is pleasing and fills my own little cat soul. It’s also important to understand that in my spectral state I can go anywhere, do anything without worry of harm or consequence from the 3-dimensional reality I typically live in with my biggie. It’s one of the best perks of being a cat. So, I submerge into the water on this crystal clear and sunny day. Beneath I see the salmon, they glitter in the beams of sunlight stabbing through the water and wavering around their beauty. The light’s warmth and guidance transforms me and I lose my spectral self as I become the sunbeams.

By now, my biggie has realized I’m gone and is worried. I can feel it. His emotions pass over time and space. Our emotional connection acts as a receiver. It’s okay, biggie. I know you’re worried, but I need this. If you could do this, you would too, biggie. I am light and life right now. I can feel the seaweed and nearby plants soaking in my nourishment. They use it as life source. Interesting. I feel the same way when I fall into a sun puddle on the floor back home.

Home…it’s 1:00AM there now. Goodness how the time flies when you’re light. Okay, I’ve been gone too long. In an instant I change form again, only this time I become the wind and whirl back in a gale. Through the pines I tug their branches, over the mountains I kick up dust, across the water I ruffle its surface with my speed, and homeward bound I am. Don’t worry, biggie I’m on my way.

It’s dark by the time I get back. Clouds cover my sight as I float thousands of feet above the earth. Into the clouds I go, transforming into water and raining down to the earth. More nourishment for the earth. Just like the sunlight, the water pumps life force into this 3-dimensional world. Imperfect it is, but that’s what makes it beautiful.

Rain drops form a puddle and I leap out of it dry as can be. I’ve returned to my Kit Cat self from my spectral self that was once wind, rain, smell, sound, thought, touch, and eternity.

He left my food out on the porch with the light on. Oh boy, he must have been really scared. No, he still is. I’m not home yet although I stare into the warmth of the doorway and the light pouring out of it into the night. Remaining outside of the light’s reach, I’m still free. I could stay away forever, live this unbound existence outside of the confines of the house. This I could do, this I could do, indeed. But do I want to really? This uncertainty of fate. Do I step into the light or remain in the dark forever and leave the biggie to learn and grow through the pain of losing me?

“Hey, you,” I hear a voice echo from behind. I don’t look back, but I know who it is all dressed in black. I know what they want. “You realize what yesterday’s adventure costs right?”

I nod, allow some life essence to leave my body and become part of the voice’s essence. 9 lives us cats are said to have. Now I have 8. Worth it.

“Thank you,” says the voice before disappearing into the eternity of night.

Okay, let’s wake up the biggie. I figure I’ll stick with him a while longer, and honestly, I’m too hungry to hunt. I walk up the steps and give a little murmur in the doorway. He tumbles off the couch and stares at me. He’s so scared, poor biggie. I was always coming back even though I gave thought to the contrary. But it’s time to play with him. I scurry inside and he slams the door. What’s this? He’s crying now? Okay, biggie, I’m going to run around the house a little more to play with you.

Fine, fine, you can hold me. Okay, that’s enough. Now give me a scoop of food…I’m starving! Delicious…this was definitely worth it. My decision to stay feels like it was always what I was going to choose now that I’ve made it. What a day of adventure I had and I’m glad to be back. Here at home. A life worth a life.