Classic Rock Archives - Cat Lady in the CanyonCat Lady in the Canyon

“Some day, yeah / We’ll walk in the rays of a beautiful sun
Some day / When the world is much brighter”
Lyrics to “Ooh Child” by Stan Vincent, performed by The Five Stairsteps

I’m starting to feel like myself again. That crazy dark side has departed, I hope for good, and the crazy had nothing to do with my passion for felines. The drastic shift we’ve all had to make overnight to adhere to the shelter-in-place orders to mitigate the spread of COVID-19 has been more difficult than I anticipated. I thought I’d be more resilient to the fear, anxiety and shock experienced worldwide. And I was, initially. But the chronic worry of how this pandemic is going to pan out while having minimal interaction with human beings for the past month, and trying to efficiently meet demands of my job while working from home with constant computer disruptions has collectively wreaked havoc on my mental and emotional state. I’ve become extremely edgy, impatient and overly emotional. The meaning in “We’re in this together” initially suggested to me strength in numbers—we’re not alone, we have each other. Now this slogan insinuates that we are all suffering together in varying degrees.

Yet, despite my exhausted psyche, I am grateful. I still have a job, I’m healthy and I have my entertaining and loving Bobcat by my side.

My heart hurts for those experiencing truly devastating effects of the pandemic: those who’ve become seriously ill, folks who’ve lost loved ones, and to those experiencing another kind of distressing loss – that of a business or job, and to business owners barely hanging on wondering how they are going to survive.

After six days of rain, the sun came out. I walked the neighborhood and bird watched from my patio. I witnessed a mama crow preening her baby. I’ve seen the barn owl take flight from the king palm tree in the yard twice this week, and I’ve stargazed. Venus has never looked so bright, and Sirius was seriously a gorgeous twinkling shade of blue last night.

Communing with Mother Nature helped to dissolve the negative emotions that assaulted my being—that and an attitude shift. “Enough. I need to start sending out positive vibes into the world. That’s got to help in some way,” I said to Bobcat. I’ve been talking to him a lot, and to the crows (Good morning, crows, how’s the baby?) Even to my Easter décor (Hello little lamby…whatcha doin’?). I know, crazy, right? My Mom told me she’s been talking to bumble bees, so it’s not just me. I think talking to whomever or whatever is around even if these beings or things can’t talk back is comforting.

Of course, Bobcat speaks to me with his eyes…

When he’s not screaming demands at me.

I’m wishing everyone peace, comfort and good health.

Please let me know how you are doing. Has anyone else been feeling a little cray cray? Talking to the birds or inanimate objects?

“There’s a message in the wild / And I’m sending you this signal tonight…”
Lyrics from “Missing You” by John Waite

I look up from whisking a couple of eggs I’m about to scramble for breakfast on Sunday morning, my gaze lingers down the hallway and onto the deck to see Lexington relaxing on the chaise lounge. An Alison Krauss CD is playing in the living room, and the moment I hear the lyrics, “I ain’t missing you at all, since you’ve been gone away…” she sings in a duet with John Waite is when I see Lexington, and for a second, I see Topper next to him. I blink. Topper’s gone.

The defiant lyrics of self-protective denial after lost love ring true as I subconsciously trick myself into believing that Topper is still here. I ain’t missin’ you Topper, because you’re not really gone.

After breakfast, I checked-out Instagram and the first thing I saw was a post by musician Adam Lasher to which someone made a comment referring to his cockatiel named Topper. Hmmm. Coincidence….? I think to myself.

Later on Sunday, it was almost twilight as I drove down Laguna Canyon Road to meet my friend Lori at The Cliff for a view of the sunset and a glass of wine when the car driving next to me sped-up causing me to see its license plate, which included the letters PAW. I smiled, thinking how cute that license plate has the word, “paw” in it! I glanced over to oncoming traffic, all the beach-goers heading home and I see another license plate, which among its numeric identification included the letters PAW. Seriously? Seeing the word “paw” in two different license plates within three seconds of each other must be some kind of sign, I muttered to myself. As the sun went down, Lori and I pondered the possible meaning of the “double-paw” sign. We came up with a few ideas: my strong animal—particularly cat connection; feline finger-gunning (paw-paw); a reminder that horses also call to my soul and that I must get back to riding lessons someday—no wait, that would be a “hoof-hoof” sign, I said. We cracked-up laughing as we attempted to crack the case of the mysterious “double paw” license plate sign.

This morning as the synchronistic events lingered in my mind, it hit me: maybe the “double-paw” sign was another way of Topper getting through to me; his way of saying hello and comforting me, letting me know that he’s still around, just in a different way.

Hey, Top Cat, I am missing you, a lot, even though I’m starting to adjust to your departure.