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T'akaya |
Nemo |
Loki |
Freya |
Lucky |
Greta |
Neffy |
Miska |
Sooty |
Niina |
White Paw |
Xana |
Poppy |
Rusty |
Boofy |
Impi |
Baby |
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Embroidery |
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Loving stories |
Zane's Rainbow |
The elderly gray cat stirred at the voice he loved. Why hadn't she spoken to him in so long? She used to whisper his name as he slept, and he'd twitch his ears a little so she'd know that even while he dosed, he was aware of her presence. He drifted back to sleep, purring to himself in spite of the constant dull ache in his old points. He remembered the astonishing leaps he used to make, effortlessly, perfectly, without a sound, from the floor to a bright windowsill. And he remembered the iron-cold December, the day she appeared patiently reaching out to comfort him, offering a lifesaving haven. His family had moved away and put him out to fend for himself--no food, no shelter, not even a backward glance. She discovered him in the window well as he tried to escape the wind: he was shivering, hungry and alone. She named him Zane. He loved her without reservation; with all his heart. "Zane, Za-a-a-ne." Oh, her voice was like an angel -- why hadn't he heard her in the longest time? And he couldn't understand why the birds and the silly squirrels had stopped scolding him. Suddenly, the strangest thing happened; something new, different. All his catly senses went in full alert. He thought he must be dreaming -- but maybe not, this was so very real. Out of nowhere a beautiful rainbow appeared at his feet, like a bridge. Her voice continued calling his name: first beckoning, then insistent -- "Zane! Zane!" Then a wide vista opened before him, just beyond the rainbow. He could see endless fields of nodding catnip, hosts of yellow butterflies, mice and moles, and chattering squirrels. He gasped with delight as he sprang forward, like the kitten he used to be. As he took his final leap into paradise he felt a few drops of rain before the golden rays embraced his soul. "Zane, Za-a-a-ne." He was curled up in his basket, half-asleep. Saying his name was a habit I didn't want to break, even though I knew the old boy was stone deaf these days. Wait -- was that my imagination? I thought I saw him flick his ears like he used to when I called his name. He must be dreaming, I guess. He's so thin, so feeble now. Arthritis, the vet says; failing kidneys too. Where has the time gone? We've shared our lives for over 10 years now. Maybe each other's thoughts too. I like to think. Lucky him, lucky me, the day I found him cowering in my window well, starving and half-frozen. I never knew how he came to be there, surely his family was heartbroken at his disappearance and frantic to locate him. I tried to find them, to no avail. So Zane became a gentle, cherished friend, He never failed to express his appreciation in all the ways cats have. The love in his eyes was unmistakable. I said his name again, several times -- could he hear me? Better see if he's OK. Perhaps I could get him to eat something. Time for his pills too. "Zane! Zane!" Why is he so still? I picked him up and held him close, praying "Not yet! Not today! Oh, not today, please..." But he inhaled once more and closed his eyes in peace, his life gone, And my tears began to fall. Like Rain. by Nancy Bleach |