For KAFFE: A Bridge Called Love

[kaffe]

Kaffe escaped the first night at my daughter’s ground floor apartment in Tennessee.  A window was left open and Kaffe, being the curious cat that he is, took his chance to dash out into the night to explore.  I went out to go after him of course; but he would not come when called.  Because we were in a “strange place,” I took out his litter box and left it outside just under my bedroom window.  I went out searching the grounds periodically and kept an all-night prayer vigil.  Then, just when the night sky was just tinged with lumiscent pink glow of early dawn, I saw the dear familiar orange and white shape of my Kaffe bounding through my open bedroom window.  God is Good.  It was then my heart realized that Kaffe will always find me.



Autumn in Tennessee is breathtakingly beautiful, when nature turns over her summer dress of greens, yellows and tans for the rich earth hues of red, gold, mauve and brown.  Under any other circumstance, I may have rejoiced more in nature’s spectacular display, but I walked under a spiritual cloud in the autumn of 2003.  On the one hand I was truly glad to be with my daughter’s family and reconnect with my grandsons. But on the other hand, it was a trying time of readjustment for me and major acclimation and reorientation for Kaffe.  Both of us were suffering from the Tennessee cold, from homesickness and from missing our friends and  other companion kitties left behind in Manila.  For Kaffe, because he understandably had a limited judgment of what was going on, the transition from Asia to America may have been particularly confusing and unsettling.  My grandsons, then aged four and six, though kind, were loud and boisterous.  And Kaffe was not used to children. The air, the weather, the whole environment, were radically different.  All the foods presented to him smelt and tasted different.  He was no longer allowed to roam the grounds as often as he was accustomed to do.  Subtle signs of stress began to appear: his teeth and gums were not what they used to be; he yawned often; and licked himself excessively. 



It was during this time of transition that Kaffe first began the nightly habit of sleeping under the covers with me.  To make him comfortable, and because I was afraid he might inadvertently suffocate, I would lift up one knee so as to make a tent over him as he slept between my knees.  As time marched on, I became very accustomed to sleeping in this manner.

[sherrylynne]

This was the first time I've read through your's and Kaffe's story. It is remarkable. Thank you.