Is it any wonder that every culture has a flood story? Of course not! Every aeon or so, there are these SUPER MASSIVE, LANDSCAPE CHANGING FLOODS OF EPIC PROPORTIONS.
On a smaller scale, tsunamis and storm surges overwhelm coastal regions, bringing map-update-worthy changes of their own.
There are also regular, reliable, seasonal floods that come with powerful rainstorms and winter snow melt, the latter bringing floods of relief along with over-washed streets.
In late winter and early spring, the ice pack dwindles ever so slowly or in a great rush. Rivers tip over their banks to caress or overwhelm their flood plains. Reservoirs swell into small seas, calling boaters, fishers, and, eventually, swimmers to immerse themselves in recreational activities. All this because of floods of water.
We experience metaphorical floods, too. Floods of emotion, floods of phone calls, floods of sympathy, floods of joy. Unfortunately, there is the occasional flood of trouble too. Luckily, at Tabby’s Place there is a broad circle of helpful hands that are willing to rush to the rescue.
Not very long ago, a colossal flood of support brought Mr. Dracula to safe harbor at Tabby’s Place. He was doted on, his every need met with the greatest of care and comfort. Mr. Dracula didn’t remain in dry dock long before crossing the Rainbow Bridge, but he buoyed our spirits and reminded us what floods of love can do.
Ever so long ago, Myrna was adrift until a strong current swept her into the cozy cove of Tabby’s Place. She knew the most tender love and kindness. Fuzzy cat beds, furry friends, and a mix-and-match family of staff and volunteers were bowled over with waves of adoration. During her time at Tabby’s Place, as tumultuous waters gave way to serene seas, sweet Myrna brought floods of warmth and wonder to us all. She, too, eventually sailed quietly across the Rainbow Bridge.
Moderately long ago, Stafford was shipwrecked upon the shores of Tabby’s Place. He slammed his way into our lives in an ever-gentle, always mussed, atypical, truly Stafford kind of way. With every transition, Stafford rolled with the flow, whether it was moving to the Executive Director’s Office, being trained in the ways of Aged to Purrfection, or swaying along on stroller rides. Stafford surfed over the Rainbow Bridge in a vessel of a different kind.
One-by-one, two-by-two, or in any way they find their way, all cats are welcome into the ark that Jonathan built. The haven that they find may not be the largest or grandest, but it is overflowing, completely flooded in fact, with all that is good and right with the world.
Ultimately, together, always with cats on our laps, we will drown out our sorrows with torrents of laughter and waves of joy as we remember those who have filled our hearts and as we look forward to meeting those who will follow in their wake.