Fragile Things

Jeff and I had a shoot yesterday morning and went to the grocery to pick up a few things after. When we got home, I plopped on the couch and Jeff went to the kitchen. I remember saying something and stopping mid-sentence, because there was mewling coming from our laundry area. Jeff popped his head out and looked at me and we stared at each other for a few seconds. I asked him if there’s a cat outside and he said that’s pretty much impossible, and if you’ve been at our place, you’d know it is, because we live quite a few floors up in a building. But the mewling became persistent. He opened the door, and you could imagine the shock on our faces to see a tiny kitten staring back at us. There was laundry everywhere, and I figured it must’ve fallen from the upstairs unit and was lucky enough to land on our clothes.

She came up to me and let me hold her. We called our neighbor but nobody was home so we were stuck with the kitten. I may have asked Jeff if we could keep her. Seven times. She explored our living room and kitchen, and made herself at home in 10 minutes flat. I spent the next hour running after her, trying to keep her from going upstairs and scaring the living daylights out of our rabbit and guinea pig. Whenever I stopped paying attention and walked away, she would pounce on the offending foot, wrestle it, and hug it. She pretty much turned my world upside down that afternoon.

She got hungry so I gave her sardines. When she was done eating, she quietly walked up to me. I was sitting on the living room floor then, waiting for her to finish. She pressed up against my leg, got comfortable, and fell asleep. I melted and fell madly in love with her, despite myself. I knew I had to return her eventually and was trying to spare myself the hurt of getting emotionally invested. But it was utterly, completely hopeless. I was done for. I’ve already spent the entire afternoon taking pictures of her (with my phone, see below).

She tossed and turned, but she never let go of me. She stayed this way for so long that I gave up and lay on the floor, too. Jeff saw us and lay beside us. I put my hand on his head and stroked his hair, and he fell asleep within minutes. So I was there, with half a cat asleep on my leg, and a Jeff asleep under my hand, and I thought about all those that walk into our lives by chance and share a part of theirs with us. I thought about how some would advise against being personally involved in your work. I thought about an e-mail I got a couple of days ago from a recent bride, Trisha, which got me all choked up. Some of these couples spend just that one day with us, and sometimes even I myself wonder how I get so attached. But really, it’s that immense trust that’s put in my hands, not unlike the tiny fragile thing that decided I was its safe place. That trust, how could it not be personal.

Four to five hours later, after more snuggling, running around, and cleaning up after some unfortunate kitten vomit, we returned the kitten. It broke my heart to, but there are some things you just have to do. And just like in everything else, I hope I left it better off than when I found it. I hope she remembers me fondly. And maybe find less dangerous means of visiting me next time.


Comments

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *