Hope from a surprise homecoming

Have you ever stopped to wonder if the universe is just waiting to surprise you? I received the biggest piece of hope I've seen since the storm turned my life upside down.

I stopped by my house this afternoon after work to check my mail—the mail forward has expired and until it is renewed, I'm on regular mail checks. Until this afternoon, this was just a typical day of the new normal in life post-Ike. But then, as I stepped in to my yard, I heard it. The jingle of Outside Kitty's collar. A week shy of four months since Ike hit, and Outside Kitty comes home. I could barely believe it when I saw her come prancing out from beneath my porch, screaming at me to feed her. I couldn't contain myself. Tears of joy and relief streamed down my face and I assured her that I would be back this evening with a dish and food for her. And there she was, waiting for me when I returned with fresh food.

I have no idea where she has spent the past four months, but I'm eternally grateful to whoever has fed her. I had given up on her. Cried tears over what I could have only assumed was a painful and sad death to a wonderfully sweet kitty. And today, she returns to the place she first strayed some 5 or 6 years ago. For those unfamiliar, Outside Kitty is my calico cat who lives outside, as her name suggests. I tried numerous times to bring her inside, only to be rejected. The one night I did secure her in my laundry room during a storm, she freaked out. I like to think she's simply claustrophobic and likes her life of freedom on the streets. She would walk with the dogs and me, following us for about 4 blocks where she would simply stop. But she would always be there waiting when we were on our way back. And she would follow us home, walking behind us in the gutter, stepping to the curb anytime a car came by.

A part of me held out hope that she had found a home and was being cared for by someone who cared as much as I did for her, or even better because I did after all leave her behind during the storm. It wasn't for lack of trying, though. She simply disappeared before we evacuated and was no where to be seen when it came time to leave. I remember sobbing uncontrollably on the way out of town knowing I'd left her behind to face that certain death the weather forecasters were predicting for those staying behind. Then sobbing again when I knew how much water was on my street and wondering if she'd found a safe place as she had so many times before. A part of me did hold out hope, but I also accepted the reality that she most likely had died in the storm. I called the shelter looking for her, nothing. I watched my house to see if she would show up. But she never did.

Then today, the biggest sign of hope in a long while walked out from beneath the shell of my house. There is something about that moment when you give up hope that lets the universe know it's time for a renewal of the spirit. Just when you think you can't go on, or it's time to give up, something always comes along and reminds us it isn't all that bad. That if we just hold out that little bit of hope, we can always be pleasantly surprised at the kindness of fate if we give it a chance. You simply never know what pleasant surprises will be waiting when you walk up your steps each day. I'm glad I got that reminder today. I needed it.