A Rocky Start – How Bono Nearly Broke our Hearts
locker of our apartment building, I turned and glanced at Lydia on the step
below. Gripping Bono’s carry case, she wiped a tear from her cheek.
psychologist, she deals with harrowing human stories every day. How could one
homeless cat make her weep?
case gently on the floor. Bono’s orange eyes beamed out at us. He meowed
softly. Lydia reached for more tissues.
he has only three years to live,” she said.
“Besides, if he finds a good home he may survive much longer.”
Stephen was told his dog Millie had two
months to live. The vet had overlooked the fact Stephen has special affinity
for failing bodies, both human and animal. On a diet of organic meat and
unadulterated devotion Millie continues to thrive.
around the room. He seemed calm. We ached to introduce him to his temporary
delivered clear instructions. We were to open Bono’s case in a confined space
and keep the cat there for two days.
ideal size. But to pair of visitors from Australia the entire apartment was a
burst into the living room. He whirled around the centre of the room, faster
and faster like a tornado building strength.
disappeared up the fireplace.
avalanche of rubble and dust tumbled into the room.
New York were crumbling along with the structure of the building. It was
probably only a matter of moments before the whole place imploded.
would happen to poor Bono. All we could see of him now was a black lion’s tail
dangling down through a curtain of dust.
never see him again. Or he could fall into a vent to endure a slow, painful
death. I dreaded the thought of calling Jon at Bidawee to confess we’d failed
so tragically and so soon.
Pulling the tail like a doorbell could be effective, but would also be cruel
and possibly tarnish our relationship with Bono forever.
practice what I preach. In my book Cats
and Daughters, I encourage people to have faith in their children and pets,
and cut them a little slack.
get himself out of there. There was a rumbling noise as he shifted inside the
chimney. Another plume of dust showered down.
to work things out.
in a shower of rubble, Bono tumbled back down into the living room. White with
dust, he torpedoed straight past us into the bathroom.
had rescued himself from a horrible fate. Understandably, he wanted nothing to
do with us.
fireplace with plastic bags from the supermarket, Lydia and I granted Bono what
he obviously craved – some down time. We went out.
pets is phenomenal. In a city where so many people live alone, animals seem to take
the place of significant others in many cases.
owner thanked us for fostering a cat and refused to charge for a sack of kitty
litter. Shop assistants at a hardware store became actively involved in helping
us find the right food bowls.
to the apartment and set them up in the dressing room that was hopefully going
to be Bono’s confined space.
watched from under the bed.