In the midst of winter, Tabby’s Place has found within us an invincible summer…and her name is Brielle.*
Brielle’s name is on everyone’s lips lately, in the form of, “Why in the world is Brielle still here?!”
Volunteers say it. Staff members say it. Nobody says it because they don’t want Brielle to be here — on the contrary, we just can’t fathom why some adopter hasn’t wanted Brielle to be theirs.
In my own simple mind, I think Brielle is still here because we still need her. Her adoption will come, as sure as springtime always beats back winter’s chill. But in the meantime, Brielle has a purpose here. We may style ourselves as the cats’ heroes, but the truth is that they sing the sunshine back into our souls when we need it most. This is truer of no cat than our Brielle.
I’ll let Brielle’s early-March activity illustrate.
We’ve learned by now that Brielle is decidedly a loner. She doesn’t dislike other cats, but if she has her druthers, she’ll find a nook of her own, far from the madding crowds. Even when it comes to our own species, Brielle is a love bug…when she wants to be. She just needs a good long stretch of quiet time to recharge between social jaunts — and she’s always worth the wait.
So while more extroverted souls like Bonnie and Camille dominate the conference table during meetings, Brielle sits quietly by.
Usually.
This past Monday was an exception. It was an intense medical meeting, as our vet team presented the day’s findings to the rest of the staff. We’ve had no shortage of severely ill cats at Tabby’s Place recently, and these medical meetings can weigh down the lightest heart. Our souls were all sighing when, suddenly, a flash of black-and-white vaulted onto the table, tiny tail wagging.
Brielle.
Our usually-demure girl had all her sequins shining this time, and her stubby spectacle of a tail swung side to side like a metronome as she strutted across the table. Sighs turned to smiles as Brielle breathed springtime over us all. A few pets from each human, a brief nosh from the dish of dry food on the table, and it was back to her cozy nook. Her work here was done.
Once again, Brielle took care of us.
I experienced this personally just yesterday. I was lost in thought as I came back to the Community Room after lunch. Brielle greeted me immediately, her expression clear: I’ve been waiting for you. I snuggled her and skritched her from head to toes as she rolled happily, licking my fingers. And then, with no warning or apparent reason, Brielle’s tail went…POOF! Every hair on that tiny tail stood on end, and I laughed with delight. (For her part, Brielle seemed to have no idea that she suddenly looked like a tuxedo raccoon. It’s like her tail has a mind of its own.) Yet again, Brielle strewed starshine into an ordinary day simply by being herself. It’s amazing what a little cat can do solely by the power of her love and her quirky tail.
My friends, I cannot thank you enough for taking care of Brielle. Our shimmering tuxedo and her beautiful soul are both in the very best of health, and we know the day is coming when she’ll bring her blessings to a forever home. Until then, we are grateful beyond words for the privilege of loving — and being loved by — this luminous creature. Have a blessed and beautiful March.
*With apologies to Albert Camus.