A couple nights ago, I woke up from a nightmare in which I was about to be permanently separated from Derrick and Lorenzo. True, Lorenzo was spotted like a palomino pony with a mane flaming autumn-leaf red, but I knew in the dream I would soon see him for the last time.
About to be, going to be, soon to be. That's the killer.
The first thing I thought of, after keeping my eyes open long enough to delete the scene so I wouldn't have to go back to it, was the little puppet in this photo that my friend Kathy posted on my Facebook wall months ago. "I thought you might like this -- a photo from the WWII exhibit at the Imperial War Museum about the Kindertransport to Britain of Jewish children," she wrote. "This little meezer puppet journeyed with his child to England during the Kindertransport in 1939. As you can tell, he is a much-loved meezer."
Oh man. And I wondered, what if his child left a real kitty behind? And what about all the cats who get separated from their humans? Lorenzo, abandoned on the street by his former owner, was so frightened in the shelter he became extremely aggressive. Derrick's intake photo, like so many others, is heartbreaking. Panting, cornered, bright pink-nosed. I'm so happy it turned out good for them.
And for the little girl with the puppet. Unlike most of the children who evacuated during the Kindertransport, she saw both of her parents again. (I found that out here.) This is my tiny prayer for all those who didn't, and for all the kitties who've found themselves abandoned, for whatever reason. 'Cause sometimes it gets better.
And for Bing, who this is really all about.
Two nights after the nightmare, I woke up in the middle of the night thinking I needed to use this song with this post. Don't ask. I'm not gonna bother : )
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