And I wanted to capture those dream fragments before they vanished to specks.
Once upon a time I had no animals in my house because of my asthma. But I married a man with a dog and a cat, and my asthma appeared to tolerate them as long as I vacuumed every day and changed my shirt and washed my hands after handling them.
We kept Scooter for the rest of his life. The cat, Roxy, didn't tolerate my children and lived out the rest of her days in a heated barn in Minooka.
Then Daniel fed a stray tabby kitten one day, and that's how we acquired Frances.
Then Christopher persuaded us to take one kitten from the litter of abandoned strays he rescued, and that's how we acquired Midnight.
Our veterinarian would not spay Midnight until she was tapeworm-free. And she was full of tapeworms, along with ear mites. I told the kids not to get attached, that we were providing hospice care. This was 2007, and we still have Midnight.
Anyway, during this transition time in our life, Midnight ran outside and vanished as we were leaving for the route. This was shortly before one in the morning and it was probably about eighteen degrees below zero.
We ran around the yard yelling, "Midnight! Midnight!" But Midnight did not reappear. Heartsick, we left for the route.
We circled back to the yard about four in the morning after we delivered Marycrest and before we started delivering to Channahon and Minooka. This time, Midnight emerged from underneath the deck...along with three other cats. We picked her up to bring her into the house, and she was not cold at all.
I'm sure you know where this story is going.
Ron would not hear of giving away the kittens and named them Faith, Hope, and Charity.
Charity used up all nine lives in his first five years. He is another story altogether.
Faith is still with us and living up to her name.
Hope escaped my son's house while we were losing ours. She ran into the neighborhoods and adopted another family. How we became reunited with Hope is also its own story.
At the time, we could not bring Hope home because we had lost our home, and we had too many cats for our lease. So Hope stayed with her new family temporarily, which turned into permanently.
It was really the best life for Hope, who needed the freedom to live as an indoor/outdoor cat (we had special fencing for our cats when we had our home in Channahon).
Hope and her family don't live in Illinois anymore, so it's not possible to see her. I still miss her terribly, but I'm happy she's had a great life and brought so much joy to another family.
She's older now and has a hip issue. She was also attacked a year or so ago and doesn't go outside anymore. But perhaps Hope is now happy being a couch cat and dreaming of her former glory days.
I never dreamed of Hope until last night. I'm not sure why I did last night. Jim sent me some updates and photos, but that was a couple of weeks ago. So Hope wasn't on my mind in that way.
But it was a wonderful dream.
I dreamed Jim had come into town with Hope to surprise us. Of course, our home was not the same home, but your mind believes that it is.
I spent lots of time cuddling with Hope, who totally remembered me, and showing Jim old photos and videos of Hope that we don't have because cell phone technology from 2008 to 2014 is not the same as it is today.
Hope also spent plenty of time with Midnight, her mother, and Faith, her sister.
The only thing different about Hope was her attitude. She had completely dropped her "tortie" attitude. In real life, even though she is older, she still has it. As Jim's wife recently said to me, "Hope is still Hope." If you ever met Hope, you would understand.
Finally Jim had to leave. I walked with him to his vehicle, and we waited for Hope to come outside. Soon she came running out the door with Faith, two sisters, running together to the car.
And then I woke up, missing Hope.
But I'm still super, super, super happy and thankful Hope picked such a wonderful life - and family - for herself. We now know two wonderful people because of Hope.
Here is the really fun part of the story.
Hope wandered into a home where the man living there was grieving the recent death of his own cat. Not knowing Hope's name, he called her Lola, which is kind of close to Hope's real name.
Three months later, Hope developed fleas and took her to his veterinarian. That's when the vet discovered her microchip and called us.
Jim was devastated. But he was (sort of ) ready to relinquish her when we came to pick her up. Except we couldn't take her with us. And he was more than thrilled to keep her until we could.
We actually were not in the position to do so until late 2019. '
And then we had a pandemic.
And then we didn't feel right about taking her back.
And then the family moved.
I think of the joy Hope brought to Jim's life.
If Faith is living up to her name, I think Hope is, too.
Have a great Tuesday!
