Kitty Lost in a Storm

There I was at work, keeping myself busy. I reflected on the many things the past few years had brought me. Stuck in the negative was easy, and I couldn't bring myself to turn around.

The years had hurt me in many ways. The one good thing that had been brought into my life was now missing, too. I was steadfast in believing he would never return and possibly was dead. My mind couldn't come back to a positive place.

Two weeks had passed, and Rascle had been missing since a terrible storm rolled through. Tornadoes had struck the area, and I had spent time clearing limbs and a fallen tree after the storm. There was no silver lining to life anymore. I felt I had nothing, honestly.

After losing my son, I was already lost, and the following year, I had a late-term miscarriage. I believed children were never in my cards. About a month after my miscarriage, I found a kitten half frozen to death in the garage. He was barely clinging to life.

I brought him inside, warmed, and fed him. He quickly became my companion. My little buddy went everywhere with me. He had this nasty habit of sneaking out, and he would be gone for a day or two, but he'd always return.

There is no doubt that Rascle needed to be neutered. I had not made the time or sacrificed the funds to do so. There I was at work, near tears, kicking myself for not doing what I should have to keep him safe.

Around the time I had my late-term miscarriage, I found out who my mother truly was for the first time. There was no way I could ever be the child she wanted, and nothing I did was good enough. I never behaved right, was smart enough, thin enough, or even pretty enough.

She cut me off from my family in every way she could, and I was alone. It was just my cat and me. He was my lighthouse on the foggy shores and kept me from crashing into the jagged rocks.

He would greet me when I came home, and I had someone to take care of. Rascle depended on me, and I relied on him. That moment at work, I felt all was lost. The only things left in my life were work and bills.

I was in a dark place mentally, and I felt the bite of tears in my eyes. That was when the phone rang at work, and my supervisor told me I had a call. It was unusual for me to receive a call at work, so I took it.

It was my roommate, and she told me, "That asshole cat of yours is in the bushes yowling. He won't let me near him." The smile that passed my face was full of joy. He was back! I asked her if he was hurt, and she couldn't get close enough to tell.

During my lunch break, I ran home, and I could hear him yowling in the bushes before I even got out of the car. I neared the bush, and he bolted out towards me, purring. I checked him over and made sure he was not hurt. He was a little skinnier than usual, but otherwise, he was just my sweet Rascle.

I called to schedule him for neutering that day, and he never ran out the door again. I had my moment of redemption to make up for my mistakes in keeping him safe. I never made those mistakes again.

He was my companion for 16 more years before he passed away. Undoubtedly, he saved me from my darkest moments in life, always there with his purr and snuggles. Rascle was an asshole to everyone except the beautiful children I did end up having, and me.

When it comes to companions, he was there for me when I truly needed him, and at the end of his life, I was there for him. There is no replacement, and I miss him on bad days.

His memory lives on in each of us, and his pictures are around my home. Without him, I don't know if I would still be here, or if I would have been allowed the opportunity to raise my beautiful children and become the woman I am today.