Old-school survivor

August 30th, 2023

There he/she was — I am not sure about its gender — in an abandoned backyard. This cat — mostly white with some yellow patches — has been well-known to me for the last couple of years. He/she hangs out in and about this abandoned backyard, which is completely overgrown with shrubs and bushes. Occasionally, I have seen him checking the situation around the block or even the next block over, but this backyard is his/her home. I walk by this backyard almost every day walking my dog, and every time I look for this cat there and keep my dog tight on a leash. But I hadn't seen this cat since spring and I already thought that maybe he/she was dead. That, unfortunately, is what happens to feral cats — hunger, disease, dogs, other (bigger) cats, ticks — you name it. But today — he/she was there, just lazily looking at me and my dog. I was very happy seeing this cat, and I remembered how happy I was the last time I saw him/her in the spring — since this cat survived yet another winter. This cat is a born survivor, not asking for anything but going along and adjusting to the given situation — and I hope that will continue for many years.

There were plenty of times when the idea of me being 50 years old was preposterous to me — not because of a particular number of years, but because I hadn't expected to live that long. Well, here I am, almost 50 years old, in relatively good mental and physical health, and with quite a comfortable living situation. I guess I am a survivor myself, going through so many ups and downs (many more downs…) and still getting somewhere. Even if I'm not where I could have been or where I wanted to be, I still am in a real place as a real person. I survived and got scars to show for it and stories to tell. And memories to keep me grounded in the idea that I can do so much more with my life than just survive.