In February the arrival of a possum and Imbolc made me wonder about motherhood and hope. Just days after writing Nurturing Hope I got another surprise visitor. On the night of February 9th, I looked out the front door and froze. I saw the back side of a thick body with a ringed tail chowing down on the food I left out for the barn cats. My first impression was that I was looking at the tail end of a raccoon. I tapped on the door to get the late-night bandit’s attention and when it peered over its shoulder to look at me, I didn’t see a masked face. Instead, I saw a cute round face with nubby ears. My new visitor to the cat food buffet was indeed another cat. 

Night after night the stray male returned to get his daily meal. We called him floppy ears because of the way the tips of his ears folded down. With each passing visit, he became more comfortable being in my presence. Soon he began sleeping inside a big pet carrier complete with blankets that I left on the porch. Unlike the feral male that has been showing up for more than a year and eluding my traps, I knew in time that I would be able to capture this one and have him fixed and vaccinated.  

I became so accustomed to seeing him that one cold rainy early March morning I stepped onto the porch to fill bowls and didn’t register that this time the ringed tail was attached to a tiny, masked face. A young raccoon was looking at me and both of us were caught off guard. I stepped inside and waited to see what he would do. Instead of leaving, he made himself comfortable on the back cushion of the wicker couch. I quickly snapped a picture while resisting the urge to pick him up, assuming that just like all my animals, this little raccoon was taking shelter from the weather and would be on his way once the rain stopped. Later that morning I watched him waddle his way down the hill and disappear behind the workshop. I haven’t seen him since. 

About a week after the visit from our woodland friend, as Floppy Ears was sitting on top of his bedroom, I approached him and reached out my hand. To my surprise, he rubbed his head on it. Within days I was able to hold him in my arms and that is when I realized that this cat needed medical help. I called a local vet who for $60 will fix a stray and vaccinate against rabies. I was told that I could drop him off Monday through Thursday between 10 AM and 5 PM without an appointment. Luckily, on the night of Wednesday, March 15th, he went inside the carrier, and I was able to close the door. The next morning by 10 AM we were on our way to Roeder’s Ark. 

The captured kitty did not seem to mind his transport and transfer of hands. As I paid upfront for the services, I asked that the doctor look at his other issues and I would cover the cost of care. I knew he was limping on his right front leg and his ears were covered in scabs, but I didn’t have the means at home to tend to him. Throughout the afternoon I anxiously awaited the phone call. Finally, at 8 PM, I received word from the doctor that Floppy Ears was going to be fine, but he was very sick and had a 103.5 fever. He had an ear mite infestation that caused him to scratch and mutilate his ears as well as an abscess above his paw. She treated and cleaned his ears and drained his abscess. He had to stay the night and would require antibiotics for a week. Before we hung up, she asked for a name. We decided that Van Gogh was perfect for him because just like the artist, the cat is missing part of his ear. 

The next afternoon I picked up Van Gogh and paid the balance. I was instructed to keep him confined and to administer his medication once a day. I would have to return the following Monday to have the drain removed from his leg. Once I arrived home, I placed Van Gogh into a big cage inside the barn. He quickly settled into the bed under the ceramic heat lamp and didn’t seem to mind his captivity. As I stood there petting him and listening to him purr, I remembered that it was not only St. Patrick’s Day but also the day to honor St. Gertrude, the patron saint of cats. I decided that his full name would be Lucky Van Gogh. 

As the days passed, Van Gogh became more and more affectionate and loved his daily cuddles. He was even a perfect gentleman about taking his bitter-tasting medication. When Monday arrived, I placed him in the carrier and took him back to Roeder’s Ark. Within minutes his drain and stitches were removed, and he was given the all-clear. I was told that he would need another week or two to fully heal and was lucky that he showed up on my porch because without medical intervention his infections would have killed him. There it was - Lucky.  

I’ve never put much thought into luck, but my experiences in March have had me wondering about it as well as stray cats and raccoons. Lucky means you have good luck, but luck is merely success or failure brought on by chance and not through one’s actions. So, the cat experienced bad luck when he was either abandoned or wandered off and then got lucky when he stumbled onto my porch and found a meal and a sympathetic person. Maybe it all started on the first night when I had mistaken him for a raccoon. What if I had shooed him away before I realized he was a cat? Maybe I wouldn’t be writing this. 

Caring for Van Gogh became the highlight of my March because having this once timid stray turn into a fluffy ball of mush in my arms brought me so much joy and sharing his tale was something I happily did with any fellow animal lover. On March 21st, I was riding that high and getting ready to write this wondering when I received the devastating news of my Aunt Janet’s passing. She was one of my favorite people on this Earth and a surrogate mother for the past 20 years. Aunt Janet was truly an amazing woman with a quick wit, a heart of gold, and a triumphant spirit. She showed me that people can survive the most traumatic experiences and still maintain their sense of humor, compassion, and zest for life. However, on that day I felt like the unluckiest girl alive when I returned my cousin Deanna’s call. I should have prepared myself when I heard her voicemail message asking me to call her. After all, texting is everyone’s favorite form of communication these days. 

The heartbreak sent me into a spiral for the rest of the week and I know my pain paled in comparison to that of my cousin and uncle but still, I found it hard to focus on much else. When the day arrived to pay our last respects, I made it a priority to arrive early and stay as long as I possibly could. Throughout the afternoon and evening, I watched as family members and friends cried and laughed in honor of the woman who brought so much joy to all our lives. Honestly, I think there was more laughter than anything and that is exactly what Aunt Janet would want. Seriously! One of her last requests was that Deanna text people from her phone during the receiving hours. I will never erase my last text. I went back home that night feeling lighter than I had all week. I couldn’t help but think I am the luckiest girl alive because I had an aunt like her for nearly 48 years and I still have Deanna who is no doubt her mother’s daughter.  

Maybe it was meant to be that I waited to write this because now I have so much more to wonder about. Luck, good or bad, is just a matter of chance. Every day every one of us has one form or another. It was by chance that a ring-tailed cat and a raccoon showed up on my porch and I was lucky enough to have pleasant encounters with both of them and even luckier that I was able to share the tale of the two tails with my Aunt Janet. She too was an animal lover and feeder of critters. Today, after three weeks of wondering and pondering, I am sharing with you the three events that made March so memorable because there is a connection between a stray cat, a raccoon, and my dearest aunt.  

If you are a lover of cats, then I’m sure you are well aware of the role they play in Egyptian culture. Cats are considered magical creatures and bringers of good luck. It is believed that the arrival of a stray in someone’s home is a sign of good times ahead. A person who is chosen by a cat can expect to achieve their goals, no matter how unattainable they may seem. Every time I look at Van Gogh, I can’t help but think that I’m the lucky one. This cat chose to trust me and now ten days after his release he still comes back to my barn every night to sleep in his cage. I can’t tell you how much his low purrs and head rubs cheer me up when I am feeling low. 

Even though I only had one face-to-face encounter with the young raccoon, I do have a regular late-night marauder. Every so often I catch him off guard when I go outside (when I should be sleeping), and I watch the startled omnivore lumber off the porch. I don’t want him to be too comfortable around the house because raccoons can pose some health threats to my family and pets, but I also don’t want him to be afraid. I just need to remember to gather food bowls before I go to bed. I do adore these intelligent and adaptable creatures because they can live in every type of environment from marshes to big cities. They have dexterous hands that make them capable of grabbing crayfish and lifting garbage can lids. I stopped feeding the cats in the barn because a mama raccoon and her nursery of young ones were getting into the food supply and making a mess, but for all their mischief, raccoons are good omens. Seeing one reminds you to be more aware of what's happening with both your emotional and physical state. Some cultures even believe that raccoons can travel between the worlds of the living and the dead. I wonder if mine can carry the following message to Aunt Janet for me.  

“As much as it pains the entire family to lose such a beloved member, not one of us can think ourselves anything but lucky for all the years of memory-making we had. I know your husband, daughter, and grandchildren can rejoice knowing that not a moment was squandered for you truly were all about family. The rest of us can feel gratitude for every time you opened your doors to host large gatherings because, to all of us, your house always felt like home.  Thank you and we love you. It’s our bad luck that we don’t get to have more time with you.” 

The month of March had its highs and lows. I felt my heart swell with pride and break under the weight of despair. It did, however, reinforce a lesson I learned a long time ago. None of us have any control over what happens. We may think we do. Heaven knows we make plans and work hard for the finest things life has to offer, but one chance moment can change everything. I think about all the times I’ve gotten lucky when a dire situation could have been the end of my time here on Earth. I survived being shot, anaphylactic shock, and having a 1200-pound horse fall on top of me (to name a few). One day I might not have such good luck. I think about the people I’ve lost to accidents, illnesses, and undiagnosed conditions. None of those people could have predicted what was going to happen and how lives would be consequently altered. All any of us know for certain is the here and now – this one precious moment in time. Make sure you use it wisely, count your blessings, and think about how lucky you are to be able to do so.