For the Love of a Cat

My cat is in my life because of loss.

My kids play outside almost every day. Barring any rain or snow, they will go to the backyard and run around after arriving home from school. My 10-year-old doesn’t even let rain stop him — unless it is a downpour, he’s fine with a light drizzle and I have to debate telling him “no” versus mud tracked inside on his shoes.

Our backyard has a very large pond, the length of several bathtubs and just as deep. Now that they are older, the pond doesn’t make me as nervous because falling in simply means “stand back up and shake yourself off” but when they were younger it was a bigger concern. We would always make sure that an adult was outside to watch them just in case they would fall into the pond.

The glass sliding door to the backyard is large and old. My 10-year-old has to wrench it open with all of his strength. I jokingly always said that I didn’t mind, because when they were little I knew it was impossible for the kids to open the door on their own, thereby preventing them from wandering into the backyard without our knowledge.

But now that they play unsupervised, they have gotten into the habit of leaving the back door open. They have to pass through a sunroom to get outside, so they will close the inner door between the sunroom and the kitchen, but not bother to try to yank the problematic door shut. This wasn’t a big deal — until we brought home a new cat a few months ago.

My husband and I had adopted a pair of kittens twelve years ago, that we named Hurley and Libby (LOST was a popular tv show at the time). They moved with us from house to house and were with us as we had children, eventually crossing state lines from Wisconsin to Illinois when we relocated due to work. We bought our current home, with its glorious backyard and sunroom, in 2013. Being able to see the backyard through the giant glass doors and windows was too much for Hurley, and he would try to escape every chance he got. Finally, about a year later, he succeeded and we never saw him again. It was heartbreaking.

My husband isn’t exactly a cat lover, so after Hurley was gone he said “no more cats.” Libby continued to be a good companion for our two young kids.