Holding Gently,
Holding Tight
Roxanne, “Where is Taka?”
I, not bothering to look up from what I was doing, replied, “She’s around.”
Roxanne, an in-home health care provider, was not convinced. She had been looking for some time. She replied, “You sure? I don’t see her anywhere.”
I was not concerned. Taka had, on a previous occasion, crawled into a drawer and spent the day in it after I, not seeing her, closed the drawer. She never made a peep. Such was typical of Taka.
When I finally got up to help Roxanne search, it was more out of curiosity than concern. It’s a one-bedroom apartment - two rooms. How many places can a cat find to hide?
We looked in every crook, crack, and cranny. We solicited the help of management. Other residents came and helped look. They walked the hallways and stairways - 20 some floors. We searched the building outside. No Taka.
This was not like Taka. She is not an adventure cat – at least not as most would define adventure. To Taka, adventure is running out of the apartment to the middle of the hallway, checking to see if there are any dogs out and running back into the apartment where she’ll roll onto her back and, with those cat-green eyes, try to get you to give her a tummy rub.
Where could she be?
We needed a new approach. I went and stood in the middle of the apartment scanning the room for anything we might have missed or that might be a clue into what happened. As I circled the room, my eyes stopped at the balcony door. We had both looked on the balcony more than once, but this time my thoughts went down a different path – a much dreaded path.
The building does not allow pets onto the balconies – too dangerous. Cats love to jump up on things. The balcony railings are an easy, but dangerous, jump for cats. The railings are constructed with a polished metal top rail cut from a rounded tube and painted with a high gloss enamel. With its narrow form, rounded shape, and polished surface texture, there is nothing for a cat to hang onto. There is nothing for a claw to dig into. If the cat has no claws, as is the case for Taka’s front paws, it’s even more impossible. Any cat that tries to jump up onto the railing will find itself sailing down through 12 floors of air. It’s called freefall – a freefall of 12 floors, even a nine-lives cat, has little chance to survive. I dreaded the day I found one of my cats had tried it.
As much as I didn’t want to, I knew I had to. I needed to know. I walked over to the door and looked out onto the balcony. It was empty except for 3 chairs and some not-yet-planted flower pots. I looked on the railing. I reached down and unlocked the door, slowly opening it. I stepped onto the balcony and took the 2 steps towards the railing, my stomach churning. I took a deep breath and lowered my eyes to the gravel rooftop 12 floors below.
Before I could see anything, Roxanne excitedly yelled out,”There she is!”
My heart was racing. I did not see what Roxanne was seeing.
I asked,“Where?”
Roxanne exclaimed,“Over there! In the corner!”
I looked to see where she was pointing. It was to a back corner of the balcony, behind one of the chairs. Only a small part of her back showed. It was Taka!
Roxanne noticed it first. She asked, “Is she OK?”
As fast and as high as my spirit had just gone, it went now into freefall.
Taka wasn’t moving. There was no sign of breathing. There was no sign of life.
I slowly reached down and touched her. Nothing. She didn’t move.
Roxanne asked, with dread in her voice,“Is she dead?”
I reached down and put my hand on her back and gave it a stroke. Her head jerked up as if startled from a deep sleep. She looked at me with fear in her eyes. She was scared.
I reached down again – this time with the intention of picking her up. As my hands wrapped around her, I could feel her trembling. As I started to pick her up, she tried escaping. She twisted and turned her body trying desperately to get out of my grip. It was all I could do to hang onto her, to keep her from going over the railing. Roxanne, seeing I was struggling, grabbed onto her also. Together we were able to hang on and get her inside.
I sat down in a chair and held her tight against me. Her whole body was shaking uncontrollably. I gently stroked her like I knew she liked to be stroked. Mostly I just held her.
I wondered what happened? How did she get on the balcony? Where was the fear coming from? Why was she so scared? I wondered if I would ever know.
After what seemed to be far too long, she began to calm down. Her muscles gradually relaxed. Eventually, her rich gravelly purr kicked in. It was good to hear.
What happened?
I have 2 cats – sisters - Taka and Tyka. I’ve had them since they were 8 weeks old. They share a food bowl – always have. Like with me, there’s no particular food schedule.
Monday afternoon, Roxanne noticed the food bowl was almost empty. She filled it.
That evening there was a drone light show downtown. It happened that a thunderstorm showed up at the same time. I went out onto the balcony to try to video it. I forgot I had cats.
It was dark when I quit. Coming in, I closed and locked the balcony door. Taka was, unknown to me, on the balcony. She didn’t make a peep.
I was in and out of town the next couple of days. When I checked the cat’s food bowl, it had food. I hadn’t put it together that there was only one cat eating.
It wasn’t until Thursday - 3 days later - when Roxanne pointed out the obvious, that I realized Taka was missing. It wasn’t until I walked through those 3 days that I began to realize what she had gone through, why she shook with fear, why she needed to be gently, yet tightly, held.
Taka had spent 3 days and 3 nights alone locked outside on a concrete balcony 12 floors up with no food or water. She survived a thunderstorm and overnight temps near freezing. She had, in her five years of life, never spent a night outside, to say nothing of spending it in the city with the city traffic, sirens and noise.
Her only way out of her predicament was to jump the balcony railing. While It would have meant certain death, it is hard to imagine that finding herself in such a precarious predicament, she would not have attempted a desperation jump. Did she try? Did she try it and somehow manage to stop from going over? Did she get the scare of her life?
That night, as I held Taka, a new image came into focus. It was of Christ holding me …gently …tight.