What the heart knows

There are differing opinions about animals and emotions.  Many people say that they have no real emotions and don't respond to them.  I'm in the opposite camp.  I think they do have emotions and are quite sensitive to human emotions.  Maybe it's the smells produced by our bodies' physical response.  Whatever it is, they know strong emotion.

In my first story, I spoke of my previous cat, Nala.  She had belonged to a friend who gave her up to me to spare her new husband's allergies.  That friend is as much a sister to me as anything else and her husband was very much like a brother in law.  I was actually renting a room from her parents when they married.  It was quite convenient given that I was making her wedding dress.  I could call her and ask her to come upstairs whenever I needed a fitting.  I also got to see them often and see how much they were in love.  When I bought my house, Nala and I moved out together.

So, why I am I telling you this as part of Sunny's story?

It was a few months after I had adopted Sunny that my friend's husband became ill.  It all started with a cold.  He was wonderful about taking care of other people, but not very good about taking care of himself.  The cold became bronchitis and eventually pneumonia.  He wound up in the hospital when on top of the pneumonia, he contracted H1N1.  Things went from bad to worse.  He was transferred from a local hospital to a regional medical center.

One evening I called my friend to check in and see how he was doing.  She answered the phone crying.  He was gone.  She asked me to meet her at her parents'.  I dropped everything and went straight there.  I spent the evening calling friends, letting them know what had happened and working with her on all of the practicalities immediately following the death of a loved one.  Mostly, I was just being there for her, offering her my strength.

It wasn't until I started the drive home that it hit me.  He was my friend too and the grief hit me hard.  I arrived home exhausted and hurting.  I wanted someone to be there for me, the way I had been for her.  I went upstairs to find Sunny curled up on my bed.

Now, thanks to his time in the wild and his time in his cage at the shelter, Sunny doesn't like to be confined.  He lets me hold him on sufferance and there is very definitely a time limit to it.  He looked up at me, but stayed where he was.  I laid down on the bed, put my head on him and cried.  There is nothing worse in my book than crying alone.  The warm softness of his fur and his quiet purr were comfort and balm to my aching heart.  I don't know how long I lay there crying.  Eventually though, I needed to breathe which meant blowing my nose and drying my eyes.

I sat up and reached for the tissues.  Sunny promptly got up and left the room.  I thought rather wryly that I had hit the tolerance point for him offering comfort.  It had been nice while it lasted, but I couldn't expect my boy to change his tabby stripes.  I managed to clear my nose and dry my eyes and had just taken a deep breath.

As I sat there, I heard the telltale sound of running paws coming up the stairs.  I looked up just as he jumped up onto the bed.  There he sat, with a little toy mouse in his mouth.  He leaned over to put it in front of me and sat up with a quiet meow.

The tears came anew and I scooped him up for a momentary cuddle and scritch.  He protested after a moment or two, but I didn't care.  He had given me what I needed in that moment and offered comfort in the only way he knew.

Don't ever try to tell me animals don't have emotions!