There she was,
8.2 pounds of orange fluff
and soft white-tufted belly.
Zelda was happily in the arms of Beth who flew in from California
to be arrested the next day.
It is true we live in ridiculous times.
Connected only by social media and held by the symbol of a flaming chalice—
Which really sounds a little odd at this moment—
Like when you say the word
too many times
and you question the three letters to be used.
Absurd times are now;
When the winds of movement can weave us together
So that the minister with an apartment in Alexandria would text the key code to her home to Beth from California
Who after getting off the hot thick tarmac of a Virginia summer
Would travel to the house
Use the code
To open the door and
Zelda had ample care with a babysitter,
But she slept alone.
Beth’s presence was a reminder
To Zelda that her mom would return from Canadian camping,
And would not abandon her for the socialized medicine and syrupy delights.
You really couldn’t write a story where a call to Canada on facetime with spotty reception
Would lead a minister to hop on a plane
And cuddle a stranger’s cat.
But there was the proof
Of our extraordinary grace and kindness
And it seemed enough
Even as the emails piled up
And the voicemails went answered
To let that soak in:
We can be gracious
We can sacrifice
Especially in absurd times.
And even that small act—
Might carry more than a cat through to daybreak.