One of the Great Loves of My Life

Day 12 (February 15, 2019)

Hi God,

            Today is a super special day in the Wylie home. On this day, four years ago, we adopted our sweet Miss Maple. I can remember like it was yesterday, just how hard it was to adopt a cat in the Toronto area. For months we had been going to every adopt-a-thon near our apartment, but it always seemed like we were the two unluckiest people in the world because no matter how early we would get to these events, the cats would already be spoken for. I won’t lie, after a while, we began to get a little discouraged. I even told Dane, out of sheer frustration, that I was ready to put off adopting a cat for a while.

            But, as you know, I am stubborn like my dad and didn’t give up. I decided to look one more time to see if there were any other adopt-a-thons going on nearby. There were not any going on around our community, but I did find one across the city. I called the pet store and asked if they had any kittens left for adoption and to my great relief they replied in the affirmative. Dane just laughed at me and pushed my buttons a little because I had told him only the day before that I was done. (Lord, what can I say? I just knew, somehow, that our cat was still out there, somewhere, and I wasn’t ready to give up yet—despite my earlier frustration.)

            Honestly, we started feeling a bit optimistic because that February day was one of the coldest days of the season. It was, and still is, the coldest us California born kids have ever experienced in Canada. (Just a balmy -36 degrees Fahrenheit with the windchill.) We knew that there were going to be less people out and about, due to the severe cold, and it provided us our best chance at viewing adoptable cats. So, we bundled up extra tight, grabbed the cat carrier, a Christmas themed blanket, and drove across the city in hopes to find our little fur baby.

            The pet store was huge and had multiple adopt-a-thon designated areas. Towards the back of the store multiple families were already playing with a couple young kittens and, by the glares we got from the kids, we were not allowed to interact with any of them. But to our glee, there was a little, lanky, eight month-year-old tabby who had been ignored because she was not as itty-bitty as the other kittens. Dane and I made our way over to her cage and realized, being up close, that she wasn’t entirely tabby for she had brownish-orange layers mixed within her grey fur. (She was beautiful, Lord.) What was not too surprising was the fact that the shelter she came from did not have much history on her other than she was from London, Ontario. We didn’t mind and asked the adopt-a-thon representative if we could pet her.

            Once the cage was opened, I tentatively placed my hand inside the cage and hoped my fingers were not about to be shredded. But I had nothing to worry about because that sweet little girl instantly rolled over on her back and allowed me to pet her tummy. Dane elbowed me in the arm (hard I might add lol) and whispered happily that she was our cat. I couldn’t have agreed more. (My heart knew without a doubt that us three belonged together.) Lord, I knew in that moment that we had not moved to Canada just for Dane’s career, but because this cute bundle of fur was waiting for us. After signing the adoption papers, we got her in her carrier, bundled it up within the warm confines of the Christmas blanket, and basically ran her out to the car.

            Dane was the brilliant one who came up with her name later that day. Maple seemed like a fitting name for two reasons: First, we got her on Canada’s Flag Day and, well, the Maple leaf is extremely prominent on the flag and, secondly, because of the beautiful maple coloring that mixes with the different shades of grey within her fur coat. She is actually going to be five this year, and I cannot believe it. She needs to slow it way down! (I keep telling her that she better be immortal because she is never allowed to leave me. Honestly, I will be a wreck.) Maple is one of the greatest loves of my life, and I cannot thank you enough, Lord, for the sweet way she loves us.

            Lord, she greets Dane at the front door like a dog. (Sometimes I wonder if she isn’t part dog.) I will admit I am jealous that she smothers Dane in kisses, and I have to beg for just one. But I guess I can “allow” her to show her dad affection, in that way, since she cuddles with me every chance she can get. She loves to sleep curled into my stomach at night. (Between you and me, Lord, sleep is sometimes fleeting because I have a husband who holds onto the covers with a death grip, and I also have a cat who hogs the middle of the bed. I am lucky if I am not a frozen popsicle falling off the bed in the wee hours of the morning, but I wouldn’t change it for the world.)

            The cuddles in bed are sweet, but you know which cuddles mean the most to me, Lord? Each night, when I sit on the couch, I love that she always makes her way to my side, stretches her paw across my legs, lays her body across my lap, and nestles her sweet face into the crook of my arm. (It melts my heart completely.) She will sit on my lap for hours and hours and, often times, I am the one who has to move first. (After all, my bladder isn’t that good.) Even if I am sitting on the couch, with my computer in my lap, she will make her way to my side and force her way in between my stomach and my computer and lie there like it is the comfiest position in the world. Sometimes my lap is the only thing that will suffice, and she will make that very clear. But I am not complaining. (Maple is a master cuddler.) And, to my great glee, most of the time she wants to cuddle with her mama.

            Oh Lord, you knew that my heart needed her, didn’t you? Being 3,000 miles away from family is so very hard for me and can, often times, feel lonely. Especially, when the major movie wrap ups happen, and I am hardly able to see my husband—for weeks or months at a time. We are on day 12 of a movie wrap up right now and, as I have mentioned before, I have not seen much of my husband lately. What makes it harder is the fact that I have not left our condo’s vicinity in that many days either, due to my pulling. I am sorry I have become a hermit. It really is making me a tad stir crazy, but I am just too embarrassed to venture out looking the way I do. Please, understand and be patient with me.

            In the meantime, thank you for my fur baby who fills my lonely days with unconditional love, companionship, and cuddles for days. She follows me around in the afternoons, and I talk to her as I am going about my day. This evening as I was sitting on the couch, making sure I took a moment to drink a cup of water, my sweet girl came over and laid on my lap. I put my cup down and lovingly stroked her soft fur. It was a peaceful moment, and I really took the time to relish every second. She means everything to me, Lord, and I cannot thank you enough that you prompted me, four years ago today, to look up just one more adopt-a-thon. God, thank you for leading us to her.

            Honestly, I do not know who truly rescued who because she is one of my biggest comforts. Maple is always there to hug when my brain feels on fire or after I have had a pulling episode. Hugging Maple may not make the struggle go away, but it does give space for the pain and hurt to subside a bit. Plus, it never matters what I look like—even when I have no eyelashes and am missing large sections of eyebrows—she loves me unconditionally and just wants to be with me. That kind of love is special. So, Lord, I am going to end the letter here because I need to go thank her for always being there for me when I need a loving cuddle. I think a few treats are in order and boy does she deserve them.

Always,

Your Daughter Kaitlan

P.S. God, please bless those furry companions of ours. There really must be a special place in Heaven for our fur babies because their souls are so pure. I feel like they show us a little piece of you by the way they unconditionally love us. Thank you for the comfort pets bring to those who suffer with OCD and Trichotillomania (really all forms of suffering). Since they are such great comforts, help us to take great care of them because they truly deserve loving homes.

Thank you for reading! If you are new, this is a chronological blog series. It is best read in order. CLICK HERE for the intro.