None of us, not even cats, has complete control of the universe.
(Please do not break this news to cats.)
Life will boop our noses when we least expect it.
But there are blessings in the booping, if we are brave enough to receive them.
Two years ago, a kitten was born, as soft and white as a dove’s feather. Silver dots danced across her face like the lights from a crystal prism.
Her eyes and ears had not yet opened, but she knew the scent of her mama. Life was all innocent instinct.
Boop. Change came without warning. The little dove’s peace did not last. We do not know the details. But somehow, Boop was wrenched from her mama. The first, hardest goodbye booped her nose.
It is a hard fall from the nest. You can no longer bury your nose in a great, soft belly. The hard ground is unmoved by your dainty feet.
The white dove would have to become white lightning.
The peace kitten would have to put herself together.
Boop. Grief gave way to grit. This time, Boop booped her own nose, like when you catch yourself out the corner of your eye in the mirror, and jump at your own sight.
Boop was startled to learn that she was brave. She was alive, even though she was alone. And, once she got over the surprise, she was rather proud of herself.
If you have ever watched a YouTube video and taught yourself how to fix your dishwasher, or cut your own bangs, you know how Boop felt. She was going to make it on her own. There was some peace between the hunger pangs … not much, but enough. Boop savored every crumb.
Boop. The larger cat did not come up nose-to-nose. Boop never saw him creeping up. Bullies are always cowards. Only brave cats and peace doves look you in the eye. But, before Boop knew what was happening, she was alone again, and pregnant.
When your plans are booped beyond recognition, you learn the size of your wingspan.
This scared stray reached deep down inside and found a heart wider than the unknown.
Her kitten could count on her. Boop did not know where their next meal might come from. But daily bread had always come, crumb by crumb. Boop believed in tomorrow, even though hope’s scent was growing dim.
Boop. Desperation is no cat’s destination. Boop never intended for everything to end in a bleak parking lot. But as she staggered, famished, among wheels she could not turn, some low-flying angel booped her nose.
Boop’s saggy belly and sunken eyes caught love’s attention. A gentle rescuer saw the silver dots on Boop’s face and glimpsed a constellation. The loneliest day of Boop’s life gave way to her first night in a home, ensconced in love and blankets.
It is a great mercy that Boop did not face that night alone.
A normal feline birth can take 4-16 hours — perhaps 24 in a rare case or a large litter. But Boop toiled in labor for two days.
Boop. At last, the weary stray brought forth a single kitten, stillborn. Her rescuer wept by her side. Boop would need time and peace to heal.
Yet the war was not over for our white dove. For one red dot, smaller than the silver stars on Boop’s face, was about to boop her nose like a meteorite.
The blood test glowered like a villain’s eye.
Boop was positive for feline leukemia virus (FeLV), the diagnosis that slams doors all along the peace trail.
Many shelters will embrace a feathery white cat with a history of heartache. Rescues will rise up to promise a bereaved mother she is beloved.
But, though their love has no limits, their space has a certain “ceiling.”
FeLV+ cats require dedicated housing, to protect their delicate immune systems and separate them from uninfected cats. Few shelters have room for a cat with an unpredictable virus spread by sharing bowls or nuzzling noses.
Boop. It was the worst dot in Boop’s life. It was the best dot in Boop’s life.
Since none of us, not even cats, has complete control of the universe, it was both.
Love turns pain into a pathway when we least expect it.
Mercy bends a bitter end into a peace sign.
And FeLV can be your magic carpet to Tabby’s Place when your wings are tired.
Boop’s bad news burst into four hundred blessings — the number of volunteers at Tabby’s Place. No more would she subsist on crumbs and courage. The white dove landed in a family tree of besotted blue jays and mushy macaws.
Everything awful had added up to unconditional love.
Boop’s best days were about to begin.
Boop. Even when life boops your nose with blessings, it can take time to adjust. Boop is still getting used to everything being and staying okay.
She wonders where the cuddles come from, this unlimited supply of soft human bellies and infatuated arms. She marvels over dishes that refill when her back is turned, like manna from heaven, or magic that is no trick.
Stability is startling.
The presence of other cats is … not the present she wanted for her birthday. (She is learning how to send a “thank you” card anyway.)
But Boop’s nose, that perfect, innocent, silver-star nose, is breathing in the sweet scent of stability.
She will be booped again, no doubt.
So will we.
But under the Tabby’s Place sky, all booping is blessing.
We do not have complete control, but we have each other.
No matter what.
Boop.