When your heart breaks and is then made whole

Boy, I didn’t know if I could post today or not

Let me backtrack.

My husband is gone for a few days on business so yesterday a friend and I were working on a DIY Christmas project. Because we were going to be in and out of the garage I put Rambo (our woods-rescue-cat) in the laundry room so he wouldn’t try to get in the garage because we had the garage door open. He’s a feral cat so his desire to be outside is strong but he’s only two months old and might not survive if he got out. Here’s a pic the day we rescue him.



After she left, I let Rambo out of the laundry room. I cleaned up the kitchen, went back to the garage to put up the tools and spray paint a couple of things, and came inside. I was going to pay Rambo some attention because he had been confined for a few hours.

I called his name.

No Rambo.

I opened a can of cat food, always a way to get him running.

No Rambo.

Now I’m getting anxious.

I search every part of the house, under the bed, in the closets, everywhere I thought he might be. I even checked the washer, the dryer, the dishwasher, all places he loves to explore if the doors are open.

No Rambo.

Now I’m really worried.

I went outside and walked around the yard with a can of tuna fish in my hand to lure him back being convinced now that he had gotten outside although I never saw him get out. We are really careful when we open the door to the outside and make sure he gets away from the door. But I figured this time he had run out so fast, I never saw him.

For the next few hours before bedtime, I was sick with worry. I went outside several times in the pouring rain calling his name and clinking on his food can. Finally, I put his carrier in the garage and left the garage door open all night for when he came back.

It was pouring rain when I went to bed and I was worried he wouldn’t survive the cold rainy night.

My eight-year-old grandson had prayed for his safe return.

This morning arrived and I jumped out of bed the minute my eyes opened and headed down to the garage in the anticipation he would be there. I was so disappointed because he wasn’t there.

I remembered that last week, Rambo had jumped up on the shelves in the laundry room and knocked everything down. Maybe he was there.

I walk in the laundry room to check and hear something move. No meows, no crying, just a kind of movement somewhere.

Yesterday, I had checked these cabinets and had even opened drawers. No Rambo.

I listened quietly. Something was moving.


I opened the drawers where I had replaced some scarves earlier and reached my hand way to the back. I felt something furry and knew it was Rambo. I pulled the drawer out and there he was. All warm and cozy after a long nights sleep. I hugged him crying, “You are such a stinker. Why do I even love you? Don ‘t you scare me like that again!”

Seriously, how was there even enough oxygen? Why hadn’t he even meowed? He must have been hungry.

I cried with relief.

Then I thought, “You’re crying? Really? You don’t even like cats!” But he has grown on us.

You see I’ve never been a person to get all the hype that other pet owners have about their pets. I’ve often thought, “How silly.”

Ummm. I’ve been humbled. Now, I know.

I think some of it is that I found Rambo three months after my mom died. I felt an immediate connection because we figure his mom had died, too. He gave me someone to care for again at a time when I really needed it. To have lost another “being” would have broken my heart.

So I get it.

To all you pet owners, I get it. I get how attached one can get to a pet. They do bring a lot of joy and comfort. They do become a member of the family.

So Rambo is sitting by me now as I type, being a pest. He loves the computer and walking on the keys. He’s looking at me as if nothing has happened.

(By the way, he never had an “accident” that whole time.)

We were still thinking of giving him away because we don’t know what we’re going to do when we take some long trips. We even have someone who is interested in taking him. The fact that we didn’t hand him over right away should’ve been our first clue that he was going nowhere. The fact that we bought special cat food and toys should have been a clue. The fact that I was panic-stricken thinking he might have gone missing, should have been a clue. The fact that I’ve taken him to the vet for his vaccinations and the fact that I even took him when I thought he was sick should have been a clue.

Who were we kidding?

Anyway, Rambo is attacking me so I have to go.

God bless and have a good day.