Nutmeg

I have sacrificed my cat to aliyah. I keep crying about it, but if I could change it, I would not.

Nutmeg in her favorite spot

She was too old to travel overseas, so I had to find a home for her here. It took a very long time, but in late July, I finally found people willing to adopt her. The closing of their house was delayed until September. I wanted to do the right thing and ensure Nutmeg had a good home, so I postponed my aliyah (and then NBN postponed it further).

It may sound crazy, but I talked to her a lot about the changes to come, and believed that she understood and was ready to go. Our last day together was a Saturday. We stayed in bed for hours. She understood it was our last day and stayed by me all day long, not even spending any time napping in her sunny spot on the balcony. She sat on my lap while I petted and talked to her all afternoon.

Tarot Prayer to find a good home for Nutmeg

That evening, her new parents came for her. We loaded her furniture, lots of food, extra meds, brush, toys, and other possessions into their pickup truck and I drove Nutmeg to their place in my car.

I felt good about her being in her new home, but it was weird to climb the stairs to my apartment and remember that Nutmeg would not be greeting me at the door. Many times a day, I'd look around and wonder where she was. I hadn't known that so much of my attention had always been on her.

A book on the foot stool by my bed would no longer prevent her from getting into bed. My blinds could be closed at night and she wouldn't bang them against the window to look out when it started to get light. My Mac could be on my lap, instead of the arm of the chair so she could be in her favorite seat. I could walk into the kitchen without being a "tease." I didn't have to hurry home worried that she was lonely. I could sleep past sunrise instead of serving her breakfast. I even planned a short trip and purchased airline tickets because I didn't have to worry about Nutmeg being lonely. I felt liberated.

I didn't have to pet her and talk to her for half an hour at a time. She didn't jump into bed to lie right next to me at the beginning of the night. I missed her.

Ribbon is the best toy!

Wednesday, four days after the couple adopted her, the man called. I knew there was only one reason that he would call me. He told me that he thought Nutmeg was very sweet, but his girlfriend was severely allergic.

I heard myself saying, "Well, I guess you want to get her out of the house as quickly as possible." He said he'd bring her back sometime later in the week. I offered to come over and help, but he declined. I told him I could be around anytime Thursday or Friday.

Earlier that day, I'd finally received my flight reservation. Immediately after the man's call, I called two acquaintances and asked them to be on the look out for a new home for Nutmeg. I also e-mailed Nefesh b'Nefesh and learned that if I cancelled more than 30 days before the flight, the fine would only be $190, not the $2,000 that I'd expected. But I did not want to cancel my flight-- this journey has been two years in the making. Then I sat it Nutmeg's favorite chair and agonized for hours.

I imagined Nutmeg coming through the door again and how happy she'd be. After her three week stay in a pet resort, she couldn't get enough of me. Then I imagined myself, staying in Tucson for months and months, waiting for someone to adopt her, and I despaired.

It seemed my only option would be to take her to a shelter. The idea made me cringe even though several people have told me that shelters are okay. After hours of crying and worrying, I texted the man at 12:35 a.m. and asked him to do take her to a shelter for me. And then I didn't fall asleep until early early in the morning.

The girl texted me Thursday morning, very angry. "This is a medical condition." I explained my situation, but backed down a little; if they'd promise to keep looking for a home for Nutmeg, I'd take her back.

As the day got later and later, I felt like I was being tortured. Did I want to see Nutmeg coming through the door or not? Where was the man with my cat? (They had been several hours late picking her up, too.) I texted the woman and asked what time her boyfriend would bring Nutmeg over.

Her boyfriend immediately texted me: "9 tomorrow." I asked if he meant morning or night, but he didn't respond.

"Scratching is for the very young; I just recline."

I thought about Nutmeg, probably locked alone in a room to prevent the spread of allergens. She hates being alone. I considered driving over and getting her. I would be able to fit her food and her window seat in my car with her carrier. But I kept worrying about aliyah, too, so I didn't go get her. 

The next morning, I checked my messages. He'd written that he'd arrive at 9 a.m., so I waited. At 9:22, I called, but he didn't answer. I checked my messages again. I tried to text the girl, but she had "unfriended" me on Facebook. I checked my phone and didn't see any calls from him.

At 11, I called a friend and asked if I should go over to their house and try to get her. I had carefully noted how to get back there, just in case they invited me to stop by and say goodbye to Nutmeg before I left.

As I was driving there, I began to wonder. She'd be there, wouldn't she?

There was a derelict truck under the car port, but the man's black pick-up was not there. I went to the window of the room they had put her in. The blinds were down and the lights were off. Obviously, Nutmeg was gone. I was distraught.

I listened to my voice mail and found that he had left a message (using a different phone) very early in the morning. "We found her a home" was all he had said. I tried calling again, but he didn't pick up.Where was my girl? Was she okay?

I didn't have the girlfriend's phone number and I couldn't leave her a message on Facebook. Then I remembered where she worked. It's a vet's office, so I thought they might have helped locate a new home and know something about it.

Hours later, the girlfriend called me, furious that I'd called her work. Her boyfriend hadn't returned my calls because his phone wasn't working. Finally, she answered my questions. Nutmeg is with a couple who have one 10-year-old cat and, yes, she said, it's a good home. She had to hang up because she was driving. They were going away for a wedding.

When she said "Of course she's in a good home," my intuition told me that it was true. Or maybe I just want it to be true.

I don't know where Nutmeg is or what the place or the people or the other cat are like. 

I talked to another friend. She suggested I contact the man one more time. I did. I wrote that a picture of Nutmeg in her new home would ease my heart.

I haven't heard from him.

Nutmeg and her dad, three years ago

My sweet little girl. I wish I knew where you are now. I hope you are well. But I'm not going to try to find out. Please, universe, keep her safe and happy.