“Extensions are unlikely to be granted.”
This is bad news when it comes from your Chemistry professor.
This is far worse news when it comes from a crowded animal shelter.
But Merv didn’t watch much news.
Where would he possibly find the time? You can’t stop and watch the traffic report when you’re busy dodging cars. You don’t tune into the crime blotter when your invincible innocence is a full-time job.
You don’t worry about the “bad” when you are as good as Merv.
We are talking about a cat constructed entirely of kindness, with golden threads of courage and comedy.
Even if Merv had a cozy couch in front of a television, he would not choose the news.
Merv prefers game shows, as long as nobody is in jeopardy. Merv wants everybody to go home with a convertible and a lifetime supply of bologna. Merv wants to form a band called Merv and the Marvelettes to sing for the contestants who yell out the wrong answers, so they will feel better about themselves. Merv wants the wheel to bring everybody a fortune. Of bologna.
Merv did not get the memo that wheels can break more than news.
But as he marveled his way through the streets of Philadelphia, the game of life took a terrible turn. The little optimist suffered a shattered elbow.
Whether it was a car, a mishap, or a rare urban rhinoceros, we will never know. Merv filed no report. As far as he was concerned, it was old, stale, boring news as soon as it occurred. All that mattered was getting to the next round.
He picked up his pieces and made a new form of marvelous. Every game increases in difficulty on the way to the big prize.
When you are the host of your own show, you excel at improv.
When you are Merv, you exist in innocence.
When you are convinced the world runs on kindness, you will find it, and that is exactly what Merv did. He limped until he located an angel, disguised as a Philadelphian.
When you find mercy, you win the grand prize.
But when you are a city stray, you are on a tight deadline.
If she could, Merv’s angel would have wrapped him in her wings for a lifetime. Merv tried to convince her he was not in too much pain. But angels hear the words left unspoken. This soft, affectionate cat needed serious care.
If they could, the city shelter would have mended Merv. Though he was hobbling and hurting, he bubbled over with love, as though he was telling each new face, “We won the big prize! You are here, and I am here!”
Yet a crowded municipal shelter can’t save every broken cat who enters their doors. Not even a soul as marvelous as Merv is “news.”
The clock starts counting down the moment he arrives. And, in the grim words of the rules and regulations, “extensions are unlikely to be granted.”
But mercy stands in the gap between “unlikely” and “impossible.”
Love’s favorite game is clobbering despair.
And the cat who hosts hope for a living was about to become love’s permanent guest. Merv became a Tabby’s Place cat.
Since Merv never heard the news that he was nearly out of time, he congratulated us on winning. From his intake exam to the emergency vet, Merv shared the jubilation jackpot.
Every face was a revelation, worthy of rubbing and whisker-kissing. Every meal was a cruise to the Bahamas, and a private jet, and a down payment on the lifetime supply of bologna.
Every dose of pain medication … well, Merv wasn’t about to admit that he was in pain, but goodness, it felt wonderful to be a little less in it.
And, when the news broke that Merv would need to lose his wounded leg, there was no time for sadness. Before anyone could sigh, Merv interrupted with congratulations. Had we not heard? Did we not know? He was going to live! We were also alive! One less leg meant he would get to learn many new games.
Not “have to” — “get to.”
When you are as innocent as Merv, an inconvenience is just an extension. And at Tabby’s Place, the game has just begun.
Merv will have everything he needs, no matter what. But the most marvelous cat is far more interested in meeting the needs of others.
Lithe and kinetic on three legs, he is a purring press release that hope wins. Rumbling blissful in your lap, he breaks the news that your heart can be mended. There will be time. Keep hobbling towards kindness. Congratulate everyone on being alive. Anticipate the impossible. Bring bologna.
Update: Surprising exactly no one, Merv has found his Marvelettes: his forever family. Thanks to those winning adopters for these photos of their phenomenal Philadelphian.