The resident feline got the worst of a cat fight, is groggy on antibiotics and pain meds, and despite all the TLC, has somehow gotten out of the houseboat and gone into hiding under the raft, somewhere in the six inches or so between the top of the flotation logs and the bottom of the raft itself. I’m very much afraid she won’t come out at all.
High anxiety.
I kayaked around the raft in the rain, flashlight in hand, calling for her. No response. Nothing to do but dry off and try to distract myself online, where I found that I’d been emailed an article on TEDGlobal by Steve Marsh in the current issue of Delta Airlines’ Sky_Magazine, with this lovely couple of paras on me:
TED’s sangfroid is ultimately a good thing. Case in point is my favorite talk of the week, given by Lesley Hazleton… A self-described “accidental theologist,” she examines the essential role doubt plays in any faith, making an example of the divine revelation of the Koran to the prophet Muhammad on a mountain outside of Mecca in 610. “ ‘Doubt,’ as Graham Greene once put it, ‘is the heart of the matter,’ ” she says. “Abolish all doubt, and what’s left is not faith, but absolute, heartless conviction.
Between sessions on Thursday, I buy Hazleton’s book, The First Muslim, and tell her that her talk reminded me of the Danish philosopher Søren Kierkegaard’s concept of despair. She uses the index in her book to find the passage that acknowledges the connection and signs my copy, ‘To Stephen—Knowing you’ll love a bio of Muhammad that bows in passing to Kierkegaard!’ Lesley Hazleton is cool.
Irony? Paradox? Life? All I know is that I just wish I could be cool about the missing feline…
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Update:
Uncool lasted eight hours. Wounded cat finally emerged. Florence Nightingale here back on the job.
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Further update, October 9:
Healing well in progress. Florence Nightingale retired.
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Not to panic. Cats survive by consolidating and waiting in a safe place. Anyway, cats can swim fairly well — though they might not like it. Siamese cats live on boats and will even jump in after fish!
Prairie Mary
Thanks, Mary, but this one is badly abscessed and in pain. She can swim, of course (cat paddle is like a frantically speeded-up dog paddle), but that’s not the issue. It’s dry under the rafts, and dark, and inaccessible to humans, and sick cats have gone to die there in the past. I’ll call in divers to try to find her if she doesn’t emerge by tomorrow morning.
Saint Anthony is the patron saint of lost items. I’m sure he hears the prayers of theologists first. (This was our childhood prayer — “Saint Anthony – Saint Anthony – please come around. Something’s been lost and cannot be found.”) I hope your feline friend returns home soon, Lesley.
Hi Karen — just updated with return of the prodigal wounded feline (maybe she’s Catholic and responds to Saint Anthony?)
A hard loss but, if she has chosen her place to die, I can only admire her. Still, I hope she returns and you can be present to each other when she leaves.
Thanks, Jane. She’s emerged, and seems to be slowly healing. But yes, you’re right: my hope would be to hold her as she dies. Which I realize might conflict with her instinct. Like most cats, she’s remarkably independent minded.
So glad to learn of the return of the prodigal feline. Most all of us do go off to heal without sympathetic bystanders pestering us.
St. Jude of the Impossible is also one of my favourites. He always worked when I was taking finals or facing something, well, impossible.
Looks like this agnostic Jew now has two patron saints: Anthony plus Jude the Impossible!
I find it interesting that in my high anxiety yesterday, I lit a candle and put it in the window. This is uncharacteristic. I’m not a candle-and-crystals kind of person, as you know, but it did offer a small warm flicker of comfort.
I am an admirer of your writing, having read two of your recent books with great interest – but being an animal lover, and more specifically, being part of possibly the only NGO in India that cares (mainly) for cats, I’m now an admirer of the person as well. Nice going, hope your liittle lady heals and is back in action soon.
Thanks, Hatch — fingers crossed.