This is our cat, Tux. Tux began his life in a field near a small subdivision in the country. After several cats, not from his litter, were thought to have been tortured, someone from the subdivision phoned the shelter and the shelter phoned Barbara. Barbara rescues kitties, keeps them in her home and finds good homes for them.
My Girl was working at Barbara’s home, helping her with the kitties, giving them shots, taking their temps, weighing, them, etc., to fulfill her volunteer requirement for 8th grade. Tux and his siblings needed some socializing time so My Girl and her friend would go over a couple times a week and love on all the kitties. We (The Man and I) were not looking to bring home a kitty. My Girl had other ideas and, amongst much conspiracy between My Girl and Barbara, Tux became our cat.
Tux, somewhere along the line, decided that the grass was greener on the other side of the porch screen door. He would stalk the sliding glass door to the porch and dash out onto the porch whenever he could. So we started keeping the screen door to the yard latched because the dogs (who are way too intelligent, I might add) know how to open the door. The beasts. But, as is inevitable in a household with children, Tux made his escape on numerous occasions. A week ago was just such an occasion.
Day 1. The stalking, the longing, the euphoria as he made the escape to the wild, crazy new world on the other side of the screen. New mice to play with. Squirrels to chase. Bugs to catch and eat. Tons of birds to stalk. He would be quivering with excitement. Heart racing. Night 1. The darkness sets in. But it’s okay. It’s NEW! Its’ EXCITING! It’s DIFFERENT! Not the same old thing to eat, drink, live!
Day 2. See Day 1, but no quivering, no heart racing. Night 2. Seems kinda dark.
Day 3. Where’s the warm bed? The soft sweet voice of My Girl calling my name? Pouring yummy food in my bowl. Filling my water bowl with fresh clean water (or better yet…finding an open toilet bowl and drinking my fill). Night 3. Panic begins to set in. No food. No water. Can’t hear the soft sweet voice of My Girl calling me. Maybe that’s her off in the distance? Too scared, too overwrought to be able to tell.
Day 4. Hiding. Crouching. Eyes darting here and there. Jumping at every sound. The newness is long gone. The excitement long dead. Fear. Worry. Regret. Night 4. Terror. Crying into the night. Where are you? Why have you deserted me? Please rescue me!
Day 5. Is that a light I see, a crack in the door? Running towards it, crying, begging to come in, begging to be taken back.
Soft, warm arms envelope me. Cradling me. Sweetly singing my name. Tears of relief. Tears of Joy. Home.
This isn’t just the story of Tux, the cat.
It’s the story of me and my God.
When will I learn that the grass LOOKS greener on the other side, but isn’t? When will I stop longing for something different than my routine (I think), boring (I’m sure!) life!?
It takes crossing to the other side and diving head-long into my pit to clearly see what I have left on the other side. The right side. By His side.
It is SO good to be Home again.