our miracle cat

One year ago today, one of my beloved cats Shelley passed on. She was 14+.

My husband Brian and I called her our brave Miracle Cat.

Before we could move into our present home in February 1994, we'd had to live in a rented house nearby for a few months. At the time, our son Jordan was about six months old, and Shelley was just under a year old.

On the day that we moved into the rented house, we took extra pains to make sure that the cats came in last, after the furniture was in, so that there would be things they were familiar with in a strange house.

We also made sure that the doors and windows were closed before opening up the cat carriers. Then when the cats were let out, they could have some time to explore the house and get used to it before we opened the windows.

Unfortunately, there was one window that had not been closed properly, and when the cat carriers were opened, Shelley, who had been particularly traumatised by the long drive and all the activity, bolted.

Like an arrow, she shot from the hallway and unerringly found her way out that one open window at the back of the house. And just like that, she was gone.

Knowing that she was lost in unfamiliar surroundings which she hadn't had the chance to explore, let alone get used to, made us more desperate to find her. We walked around the whole neighbourhood looking for her several times a day, every day, for weeks.

When we took the dogs for their walks, we searched and called for her. Brian spent hours trekking through the undeveloped land near the back of the house looking for her.

We drove back to our previous home to see if she had, by chance, found her way back there, then finally we went to the SPCA to see if she had been found by a good samaritan and brought to the pound. No luck.

The people at SPCA told us that usually, if a pet cat isn't found after two weeks, it's highly unlikely that it will ever come home.

We were heartbroken. Shelley had been gone for a month, and we couldn't help blaming ourselves for her loss. We prayed for her safety and her return. We couldn't give up hoping for a miracle.

Then early in the morning on New Year's Day 1995, we got our miracle. We were sleeping in our bedroom on the second floor and I was awakened by loud meowing. And then a thin, furry bundle of love hopped onto our bed.

It was Shelley.

She was skinny, dirty and hungry. But she was home! I can't describe the rejoicing that went on in our house that day.

Our spaniel Church, whom Shelley adored, was ecstatic. My husband and I were speechless.

How this young cat, who had been born in our previous home and had never had to fend for herself since birth, survive for a whole month in totally strange surroundings and find her way back to us -- not only locating a house that she had been in for not more than a few seconds, but climbing up the stairs and homing into our bedroom and our bed -- could only be a miracle.

Of course I believe that our guardian angels -- Shelley's and ours -- had a hand in it too, and I am eternally grateful for that and all the many other things they have done for us (in our home, the angels are always busy!).

But that was when I also realised how brave, how single-minded, how powerful we can all be when love motivates us.

About a month after that, we moved yet again -- to our present home, and we had no problems at all this time.

But for the rest of her life, Shelley was living proof of the power of love. She will always be our Miracle Cat.

We miss you, darling. But we know you are always with us.