Be not forgetful to show hospitality to strangers, for by so doing, some have entertained angels unawares. (Hebrews 13:2)
Mystery came into our lives at Christmas time shortly after my husband died, a scrawny, half grown feral cat discovered comatose and almost frozen on the road leading to our house. I wondered at the time if he had sent her to distract me from my grief that first Christmas.
My sister and I thought she would surely die, but a few hours on a heating pad brought her round, literally. All she could do was walk in bewildered circles for days. She appeared to be blind, and was obviously brain damaged. We thought she had perhaps been hit by a car, because we couldn’t see how she would have survived for any length of time in the wild in the shape she was in. She knew nothing of litter boxes or traditional cat food, and was terrified of us, and very sick to boot. I worked with her for a couple of days, but had started to despair of her ever being able to live anything approaching a normal life. Lying in bed on Christmas Eve morning, I was seriously thinking I might have to have her put down before the long Christmas weekend made vet care impossible. But this was the day Mystery decided to live; when I went to her room that morning, I found that she had used her litter box for the first time (how had she ever even found it in her bewildered, dazed condition?) and had begun to eat; she even let me begin to touch her that day.
And so Mystery became one of the farm gang, an indoor member since her maladies made going outside pretty hazardous. She became “Mystery” since none of us, including the vet, quite ever understood exactly what was going on with her. Within a short time, she ended up with a broken tail which had to be amputated, and developed seizures for which she had to take phenobarbital daily . . . which in turn led to terrible kitty constipation (and little pellets dropped at random) and lotsa zoned-out napping.
And over time Mystery, with all her disabilities and maladies, became a beautiful star! Her personality was a sweet and loving one, appealing to humans and non-threatening to her animal companions. She became very playful, making up her own games, romping and leaping about with blind abandon and enthusiasm, and somehow searching out her favorite toys. She was smart in her own funny and endearing ways, and the other cats cared for her tenderly (and I could swear, sometimes with amazement).
She graced our lives for thirteen years before she crossed that rainbow bridge, and we’ll remember her always, the Mystery that came to visit on that cold bleak Christmas when I didn’t know where I was going to find the courage to keep on keeping on.