Category Archives: pets

Emily, Emily, Emily

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Emily opened her clear green eyes.

The sliding glass door stood open. Beckoning music from a set of wind chimes hanging just outside the door drifted into the living room on a gentle spring breeze along with the scent of rain.

Rousing herself from the corner of the cozy couch where she was napping, she sat up. Her whiskers twitched and she jumped lightly to the floor. She padded over to the open door and peered outside, sniffing the warm air.

With a quick glance back at her friend Cosmo, who lounged on the back of the couch looking like a miniature panther, Emily bounded out onto the wooden balcony. Quickly she jumped up onto the cedar high top table. From her perch she had a fine view of the yard below. The drop to the patch of grass and the damp sidewalk was pretty far. But Emily felt secure crouching safely behind the protective barrier Linda’s long flower box filled with dancing pansies provided.

Emily and Cosmo were indoor cats. She loved her comfortable world filled with soft carpets, warm blankets, sunny patches and overstuffed pillows. Out here on the balcony, Emily felt a bit daring and adventurous, but also slightly hesitant.

As the soft wind ruffled her long fur and the sunshine peeking through the light clouds warmed her, Emily began to purr. A moment later, she mewed in delight when Cosmo ventured outside to join her. He sat companionably beside her on the tabletop.

Cosmo’s yellow-green gaze darted here and there. His tail twitched with restless energy. Emily touched noses with him, hoping he would relax, but then Cosmo stepped from the table onto the white balcony ledge. Chirping in alarm, Emily watched her friend cavalierly strut from one end of the ledge to the other. In a series of plaintive meows, she told him to be careful.

In astonishment, Emily watched Cosmo tense and carefully brace himself. Suddenly, he jumped off the balcony. For an endless moment he seemed to float through the air, before landing safely in the wet grass. He shook glistening raindrops from his front paws and looked back up at Emily. They stared at each other in wide-eyed surprise. Now what, they silently chorused.

“Emily, Cosmo . . . breakfast time.”

At the sound of Linda’s voice, Emily turned back to the screen door. She jumped from the table and hurried back into the living room, meowing in concern.

Linda scooped her up in a gentle hug. “Emily, Emily, Emily,” she said. “What’s the matter? Where’s our friend Mr. Cosmo?”

Where indeed was Cosmo? She hoped he hadn’t wandered away. Or been chased by a dog. Struggling in Linda’s arms, Emily let her know that she needed to get down. On the floor again, she trotted as quickly as she could to the balcony door, and Linda followed her outside.

“Cosmo,” Linda called.

To Emily’s relief, Linda immediately looked over the edge of the balcony and spotted Cosmo. “What are you doing down there?” Linda asked.

Picking up Emily again, Linda rushed inside and securely closed the balcony door behind them. Softly placing Emily on the couch, she said, “Don’t worry sweetie. I’ll go get him.”

Linda disappeared through the apartment door. What if she couldn’t find Cosmo? What would they do without him? Emily sat up on the back of the couch, alert and watchful. Minutes dragged by.

At last, Linda stepped through the doorway with Cosmo in her arms. “Don’t you ever do that again, silly boy,” she told him, echoing Emily’s very own thoughts.

She put Cosmo on the floor and he sauntered over to the couch. Flooded with gratitude, Emily jumped down to the floor and gave her friend a head bump. Together, they followed Linda into the kitchen where breakfast awaited.

What now?

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For as long as I can remember, I have been enamored of houses with expansive front porches.  I have dreamed of sitting in a white wicker rocker on the shady porch of my future home.  I imagined myself reading in the sunshine, occasionally glancing up past a row of hanging baskets overflowing with fuchsia and lobelia blossoms.  Two summers ago while visiting Prince Edward Island, I took photos of two lovely front porches.  These photos have inspired the following photo essay.

 

PEI front porches. (photos by L. Walkins)

On Monday morning, Margaret brought her steaming mug of cinnamon tea and her library book out onto her front porch and settled into her wicker rocker.  The street was quiet.  Presumably, all of her neighbors were at work or school.

She sipped her fragrant tea and glanced at the silver watch on her narrow right wrist.  Ten forty.  And here she was dressed in yoga pants and a Yale polo shirt on her porch with the whole empty day stretched out in front of her.  The life of a retiree.

A month ago, she would have been poring over manuscripts at her desk in her cozy office on Church Street in New Haven.  For more than thirty years, she had built a career as a picture book editor.  She had so enjoyed the creative process of guiding the artists and writers as they collaborated.  All of Margaret’s  hard work had culminated in a celebratory retirement party at Modern Apizza.  At the end of the evening, her young colleagues had wished her well with looks of envy.

Of what exactly were they envious, she wondered now.  Margaret did not enjoy feeling at loose ends, purposeless.  She set down her mug and opened her book.  After reading a couple of paragraphs, she set aside the novel, Barbara Kingsolver’s latest.  She stood and stretched, her arms reaching up in a classic mountain pose.

Down on the street an unfamiliar dark SUV rumbled toward the corner.  The car slowed to a crawl at the stop sign.  The back door slid open and a brown and white tabby cat tumbled out.

“Hey, wait!” Margaret called out as the SUV turned the corner and disappeared.  She hurried down her porch steps and strode up the sidewalk to where the poor cat stood looking around in confusion.

Margaret crouched down a few feet from the lost little creature.  “Hello, kitty,” she said in a soothing voice.  “Come here.”

The cat meowed and sidled up to her.  The cat looked well fed and wore a royal blue collar.  Had the people in the SUV just abandoned their pet?  How could they do that?

Carefully reaching out, Margaret picked up the fluffy cat and carried it to her porch.  She smiled as the cat began to purr.

emilyflowers

Emily. (photo by L. Walkins)

Setting down the kitty, Margaret perched on the edge of the wicker rocker.  She leaned forward, elbows on her knees, and asked, “What are we going to do with you, huh?”

The cat jumped onto the wicker love seat across from Margaret and kneaded its floral cushion before curling up into a contented ball.

“Make yourself at home, sweetie,” Margaret said.  She watched the lovely cat with fond eyes and thought about all of the abandoned pets at the local shelter.

The family next door had adopted a friendly Scottish terrier from the shelter a few months ago, and recently the local news station had aired a feature about the shelter.  The organization was housed in a bright, clean facility and staffed by enthusiastic and dedicated animal lovers.

“Perhaps they need volunteers, ” Margaret mused aloud.  She would call them this very afternoon.