But I’m afraid that won’t work here. That other Sarah may have lived up to that title, but there’s nothing plain about the Tabby’s Place Sarah. (Or tall, come to think of it.)
Sarah of the book of Genesis laughed when told that she, at age 90-plus, would soon bear a child. Can you blame her? If she’d told anyone, the nieces and nephews would likely have wondered if crazy old Aunt Sarah was off her meds again.
But, soon enough, the biblical Sarah’s giggle of disbelief turned into laughter of a different kind - the laughter of hope fulfilled. The child of promise came. The 90-year-old held her newborn.
And, some 4,000 years later, it’s my hope that another Sarah will have her day to laugh, too.
Life’s been mighty scary for the tabby-and-white Sarah. As far as we know, she’s never received any outright meanness…but it’s clear she also hasn’t received the kind of love that makes a soul secure.
At least, not until recently.
When Sarah first moved into Suite B a few months ago, she just about had her 19th nervous breakdown. Her enormous green-brown eyes didn’t want to take it all in: so…many…cats. It’s not that Sarah doesn’t like cats…it’s just that, somewhere along the line, she learned that they can’t all be trusted.
And so she didn’t trust them - couldn’t bring herself to trust them. In a cage-free sanctuary, Sarah tucked herself into an open cage, dashing out when nature called her to the litter box, only to make a beeline back to her self-imposed cell. We human beans reassured her as best we knew how, from loving on Sarah mightily to providing her with everything a cat could want in her private “apartment.”
Still, our shy girl was too fearful, too shuddery. All those cats and all that anxiety wasn’t doing her any favors, and hiding her days away in a cage also hid her beautiful moon-face from potential adopters.
Something had to happen. Sarah deserved to laugh.
And so this not-quite-old lady moved into the Little Old Ladies’ Room (also known as Adoption Room #3, also known as the Girls’ Dorm Room). This was the cozy, couchy, sun-filled land where Weezy first learned to move on up, where Lady Grey dared to allow humans to see her, and where Cali and Jade continued to hold court as the snuggliest seniors in New Jersey.
As I type this post, we’re still in the process of finding that out. Our big-eyed love is no social butterfly yet - and, truth be told, she probably never will be. That’s okay. Plenty of us human beans are on the more introverted side, and we get by just fine once we feel safe and find the ones who will love us exactly as we are.
Sarah’s already halfway there: we humans can’t help but adore her for all her bashful ways. Reach towards our girl, and she’ll initially draw back in hesitation. Friend or foe? Are you safe? Then the hope floods in, and before you know it she’s sniffing, then head-butting, your hand with her cherubic face.
Human love is Sarah’s favorite kind. And mark my words: Sarah has a lot of laughing to do - the hope-realized kind, that is - when her humans find her.
For now, we find Sarah in the sunshine and security of her new world. Hope is growing - and I can almost hear the laughs.