I can't believe it's been almost two months since my last post. I started a couple, but truly, the words were not there. I have to think that I thought I had something to say, but God had other plans, I suppose.
My latest adventure has concerned one of my cats, Freddy. Freddy is one of my favourite cats, although I know I'm not supposed to feel that way. Each one of my babies has special qualities that are endearing to me. Cats, while they may respond to all family members in the household, are known to attach themselves mainly to one person. Lady Sophia is my Calico cat and our first cat in the family, just before the pandemic. She has attached herself to me, which is sometimes hard to tell because she is so skittish. She, like all our cats, is a rescue and came from a cat colony, likely a barn or outside a home. For that reason, she is always in a bit of a survival mode. She does allow me to pet and brush her, but hates being picked up. She has occasionally sat on the arm of my chair, but since I bought a new leather recliner, she does not jump up. I assume it is the smooth texture that doesn't make her feel secure enough to jump on top of.
Then there is Freddy. Freddy actually adopted us. He showed up in our backyard in August 2020 and wouldn't leave. We had him checked for a microchip, and there was none, and he wasn't neutered. I did post "found cat" on social media, but never had a response. Freddy was so endearing. He came up and rolled on his back, purred and rubbed against your leg. He even talked. He would meow, and if you meowed back, he kept up the conversation. He still does. We named him "Freddy the Freeloader" after the Red Skelton character, which you would only recognize if you were born in the early 1960s! Alas, I'm dating myself.
Since Freddy was a stray, we have no idea what his life was like before he adopted us. The fact that he was so friendly gave the impression that, while life on the road could have been difficult, his sunny and optimistic personality outweighed any negatives in his short cat life. However, in the fall of 2023, that belief came into question.
I was in London with Jess and her family, helping out while she was in the hospital, and again when she returned home in October. Mike had been taking Freddy for his routine veterinary appointment, and while getting him in the car in the cat carrier, he escaped through an unsecured latch, and he bolted. He was missing for three days. I was a mess the whole time. Here I was dealing with the emotions tied up in my daughter having a terminal diagnosis, that I was praying desperately for healing, and Freddy, my favourite cat, was missing with a possible devastating fate.
Was he hiding? Did someone take him in? Was he lost in the cornfield behind us? Did one of those coyotes we hear wailing at night get him? That was the thought that haunted me the most, but I prayed and prayed he would be safe. When I came home for the weekend, I immediately went out to look for Freddy. I walked the streets, handed out flyers, walked the corn field and the neighbourhood. There had been one sighting by Mike, but he darted away again. Then he showed up one night as we were getting ready for bed. Mike spotted him, and he ran under our neighbour's deck. I then got down and crawled under and grabbed him! He was home and looked no worse for wear. I concluded that someone must have taken him in and let him go when they saw my flyer. The theory worked for me at the time.
Answered prayer! God answered my prayer for Freddy's safe return, so, of course, the prayers for Jessica's healing, or even remission, would be answered. God cares about my cat; how much more does he care for my daughter?
Of course, we know how that turned out. Jess went home to be with Jesus, and I was left grappling with the "why" of a young mother being taken from her children. From previous posts, anyone reading them knows that I am working through all of this and will do that for the rest of my life, but I do trust that God is good.
Fast forward to May 11, 2026, when Mike was working in the backyard and had the hose from his air compressor running out through the back patio door. He had the door closed against the hose, as he had done several times before. Freddy and OJ, our ginger cat, somehow pushed a heavy patio door just wide enough to get through. Mike found them both on our neighbour's deck, looking into their house. Mike picked up OJ and Freddy, again, bolted.
It was like he disappeared. We immediately went out calling, shaking the treat bag, and looking everywhere. All the thoughts and fears came flooding back from his last disappearance. I searched every day and evening. There was nothing until I was at the end of our street on Thursday, with my flashlight and there in the wooded area was a pair of eyes shining back at me. I cautiously stepped forward, and there he was on a fallen tree amongst the branches. My flashlight stayed on his sweet face as I talked to him, crouched down about 10 feet away from him. It was likely about 10 minutes I spent with him. I quickly texted Michael to bring the treat bag to try to lure him. Unfortunately, as he was walking down the street, Freddy took off again along the fallen tree trunk and disappeared almost into thin air.
The next morning, I went to the same area and caught a glimpse of him before he disappeared again down that same log. I continued my search in the marshy wooded area in my rubber boots, sometimes with binoculars, other times with a treat bag. I expanded my search beyond that area to the abandoned railroad tracks and the brush area behind our home, with nothing.
I handed out flyers, put some on the community mailboxes, and posted a notice on every local Facebook group I could find. I had one lady, in her infinite wisdom, tell me about her neighbour's cat that was killed by a fox. She then told me that when foxes kill, they eat everything except the fur. I went to my car and bawled all the way home. Who talks like that???
We had purchased a small camera for the back of our house because I was leaving the patio door open, and there was some food on the steps. It had been largely untouched until one morning, when the food was gone. When I scanned the footage, there was a large opossum on the steps, finishing the cat food. I had the garage door left open a few inches every night with food left out that was never touched.
I had live traps. One from Amazon, and another from the local cat rescue. I caught one cat, not ours. I caught a raccoon, two separate times. Raccoons aren't super happy to be captured!
No Freddy. No sign of him. Nothing. I was discouraged again as it had been four days since any sign of him, and eight days since he bolted. I felt like he was never coming home.
Then on Wednesday morning, after my first round of searching, I checked the motion camera footage, and there he was, eating the food left out for him. A sighting!!! Something again, to give me hope. I stayed up late that night watching the camera from my phone. I saw him walking by the steps, but he didn't come up.
When I checked the camera footage on Thursday morning, there he was again. He came up the steps after I went to bed, and actually came into the sunroom. So I planned to be in the sunroom that night and close the door when he came in.
But Freddy showed up earlier than expected, and I wasn't prepared for him. He saw me at the inside door and took off. I thought he was never coming back, but I hid anyway. He came to the steps a few times that night, but never came up. I believe he sensed me there, so stayed away. I stayed awake until 5:00 am and was becoming exhausted with my lack of sleep over the past few days. I was emotionally and physically spent.
Thursday night, I again stayed up to watch the camera, thinking Freddy was not going to return. Then at 2:00 am, he showed up, came into the sunroom for a few minutes and left again, after eating the food, of course.
So it was decided that Friday night we would shut the other cats in the bedrooms, and leave the inside door to the sunroom open, as I sat in the dark on the couch watching the camera. Then there he was! I saw him come in and didn't hear anything for 10 minutes, until I heard the crunch, crunch of Freddy at the crunchy cat food. I quietly got up and closed the inside door, and Freddy ran downstairs. I ran down after him with the treat bag. He let out some weird-sounding meows, and he looked a little frazzled. As he came over to eat some treats I threw on the carpet, he rubbed up against my arm, and that was it! He was back!
Another cat-disappearance prayer answered, but what is to follow? I have several prayers for family ongoing for salvation, care of my grandchildren, my relationship with my son-in-law, my son's job search, and the list goes on. Which one, or all of them, aren't going to be answered in the way I want them to? I don't know.
But God does, and I sometimes, or rather, often may not understand His ways, since they are not my ways.
Do I trust Him enough to answer in the way He knows is best?
Is His best, my worst?
Sometimes.
The answers to prayer that result in a pain that is greater than any pain I've experienced are a possibility.
I've experienced that undefinable pain.
The loss of my child.
While I will never fully understand it, I have accepted that it has happened. Trusting that while my grandchildren's mother is no longer physically present, her presence will always be here as long as those of us who love her, continue to magnify that presence. I trust that God's plan for them is the best plan, and I need to trust that even though I may not have as broad an influence as I had hoped for, He is still in control.
As I now remember, God told me many years ago in His audible voice, when I was having a crisis with Jess, "Let her (them) go, I will look after her (them)."
Since He was in control then, and He must be now.
I need to trust the plan.
Pray
Wait
Trust
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