Two days ago my elderly neighbor passed away, and with her went a little soul who suddenly had no one left. Yesterday there was a knock at my door. When I opened it, a few of the other neighbors were standing there holding her in their arms along with a small bundle of her things.
Their words were heavy. “None of us can take her in. She needs a home today… or tomorrow it’s the streets or the shelter.”
Three options. None of them felt right.
I looked into her eyes. Soft. Confused. Searching. She didn’t understand why the familiar face she loved wasn’t coming back. All she knew was that she was being carried from place to place, waiting for someone to finally say, “You’re safe now.”
And in that moment I knew. My home, already full of purrs and tiny paws, still had room for one more heart. So now… I have four cats.
She is still adjusting. Sniffing every corner. Watching the others with quiet curiosity. But last night, she curled up on the blanket I laid out for her, let out the softest sigh, and drifted into the deepest sleep. That sound… the sound of peace… was all the confirmation I needed.
It wasn’t planned. It wasn’t expected. But sometimes love doesn’t wait for us to feel ready. It simply shows up at your door carrying whiskers and memories, asking for a second chance.
And when it does, you say yes. Always.