Phoenix Rising

Close to a month ago I heard all this yelling and commotion next door.  I had just gotten out of the shower, threw clothes on and hustled outside to find nothing but silence.

A few minutes later my other neighbor, my hippie-botanical-boho-buddy, Jim, came by all worked up.  He told me the dog next door had attacked a cat (it was the owner I had heard yelling to try to stop the dog).  Jim had intervened, did his best to save the cat by prying it out of the dog's mouth and putting it over my fence, to safety.  He asked if he could go out back to find it and I followed him to our wall of areka palms.  Which is where we found her.

I could see big, fearful eyes in the dark of night…and that's about it. She couldn't move.  I wrapped her in a blanket and we carried her inside, getting her settled into a nice cozy spot in the garage (safe from my 4-pawed tribe).

By the time Bobby got home I had already did my best to clean her up and sooth her a bit.  We both believed her to be feral.  Bobby didn't want to say it but I could tell he didn't think she had much of a shot at surviving.

I was worried about managing her pain but I had a feeling she'd be ok.  We agreed to nurse her overnight as long as she appeared to be managing ok and see what her status was the next day before bringing her to the Humane Society where I worried they'd rush to put her down (potentially being feral in an area that's overrun by feral cats).

Well, several weeks later I'm happy to report that she's a purring, nuzzling and eating machine!!  Her legs are little wonky still but I guess that makes sense when you have a boxer clamp down on your hips and try to crush you.

Truth be told - she's a survivor!

I have eased into leaving the garage door open for extended periods of time uncertain if she's in a hurry to go back to wherever she came from…but each time I make my way back to the garage to check on the status of Phoenix, there she is, just looking at me as if to say "you don't want me to leave, do you?".

Crazy Cat Lady status is inching toward red alert.

:: Always from under the same sky ::

Tara