| Blogs > RoadNeverTaken > Just saying.... |
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Good neighbors In my neighborhood, we don’t have to have a Neighborhood Watch. Everybody watches for everybody else. Most people in our neighborhood don’t mind this and those few who do usually are renters and don’t stay after they see Mabel peering across the back wall. It’s not that my neighborhood is a Mr. Rogers neighborhood, but Republicans manage to live quietly side-by-side Democrats (and vice versa), owners generally pick up their dogs’ waste on walks around the neighborhood and neighborhood who have bike accidents can feel comfortable the person stopping to help is not a ‘stranger’. All this neighborliness makes for really comfortable living. I can leave the doggie door open during the day. I can open my windows when I sleep at night without having to worry about making it easy on the muggers. I can leave my door unlocked when I go to the community pool down the street. The biggest drawback to my neighborhood is that it can get a trifle boring. But when something DOES happen, when the retired doctor up the street has a fender-bender because he shouldn’t be driving anymore or when someone new moves into the neighborhood, everyone is galvanized into action. Norman Rockwell would like my street. However, I DO live in the desert. Tarantulas are not the only wild thing that can come in my dog’s door. It’s not unlikely to see a bobcat every once in awhile and a couple times mountain lions have slinked up our road. We call small, unattended cats and dogs ‘lunch’ in my neighborhood. One year, a great horned owl stole someone’s kitten out of the backyard. My safe, boring neighborhood can be downright violent sometimes! So when my neighbor’s Siamese cat Mercy padded out of the house on her dainty feet and didn’t return, all the neighbors took part in the search. Immediate neighbors who had their doors open even looked in our closets. Everyone looked in his or her storage bins, in trees and under patio furniture in their backyards. Neighbors and friends showed up with flashlights to search in the washes. No stone was left unturned to find this cat. We take our animals’ safety very seriously because life’s a jungle out there for them without us on the end of the leash. My neighbor Jan was devastated when all this searching came up with nada. Usually we find something left of the animal – a collar, the ears, a piece of fur. At least we have something to bury. It’s hard on us, though, when they disappear like smoke. Was Mercy alive? Was she dead? Did it hurt? Jan stayed in bed for the next two days because she was so depressed. This morning, like the good neighbor I am, I walked out in back to clean up after my old pointer bitch. From what seemed like far away, I heard a tiny, scratching sound – much like a piece of furniture being moved. My was sniffing curiously around my double chaise lounge, covered by a sheet for the winter, looking mightily confused. In my neighborhood, it is really important to know what’s under stuff. Could be a rattler (unlikely this late), could be a rat (rabies?), could be a rabbit. Whatever it is, it’s guaranteed I don’t want my checking it out. I got on my hands and knees to peer under the sheet. Mercy! There was Mercy! After spending three cold nights, she had found her way back! Throwing my back in the house, I approached Mercy with care, knowing she would be traumatized and likely to scratch. I think she was just simply too hungry and cold to care, poor thing. Other than having to pry her little claws from my patio rug, I came away fairly unscathed. I didn’t even think about the fact it was only 6am. I just wanted to get this poor little cat back to her human pronto. I ran through the gates separating our back yards, yelling my neighbors’ names and repeating “I found her” over and over. Robert, Jan’s husband, came to the back door, obviously tugging a pair of shorts on. “She’s alive?” Robert asked but he could see that she was-but maybe just. Jan finally came into the living room, at once seeing Mercy. Her hands shaking, she swooped Mercy out of my hands and immediately started making those soft sounds we women make when trying to calm down a frightened – or animal. All the while, tears streamed down her face. “I’ve been praying and praying and my prayers have been answered.” was all she could say. Today, the neighborhood is calm again. Cat lovers are taking deeper breaths. lovers are counting their blessings if their dogs are too big to be eaten by a coyote. Dogs’ leads are more closely held. The neighborhood avoided a collective catastrophe. Perhaps, as Jan said, the One found Mercy and returned her to us. |
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11/13/2010 6:29 am |
 Wonderful blog, Road....I am so happy for Mercy now that she is safe at home. I too live in the desert...watching the coyotes, bobcats, rattlesnakes, and tarantulas, etc. going up and down the street and hanging out around the yards. Too many times I have seen stray cats or dogs that have gotten loose just wandering around and the same thing enters my mind...."LUNCH" for the desert animals. My kitty cat stays indoors with me....occasionally a snoop outside as long as I am right there with him. He's a big ol' fraidy cat anyway, but at least he is safe!! Thank you for this happy ending story..
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