07/02/2024
It all started with the a set of the most beautiful green eyes I have ever seen staring out at me from the dark corner of the little cat cubby at Petsmart. Most of you know how this story goes: we told ourselves that we were just going to look at the adoptable cats while getting food for the one at home, and ended up meeting our new family member that day. What we did not realize yet was that we actually met two - that Joanie, the lady who rescued our Crescent, the kitty with the beautiful green eyes and bottle fed her as a baby, would become a part of our family as well.
Joanie always tells everyone who adopts a cat from her that she loves getting pictures of the kitties in their new homes. It is true - however those are not the only messages she gets. I remember texting Joanie when our kitty got sick, asking for her recommendations. Sending her photos of Crescent warming up to our other kitty Leo and finally cuddling together. Calling her when we found a cat outside at midnight and we didn’t know where to take him (Joanie stepped up to help him find a home, and was only thwarted in her effort because the cat charmed my husband first so we kept him).
Joanie was also the one I texted when I had no idea what to do with this real charmer of a cat because as it turned out he enjoys climbing up window screens and falling asleep in the trash can. (As we know, closing the window and getting a trash can that locks is easier than trying to make a cat change his ways.)
Joanie was the one who listened to me cry on the phone for hours when our Leo passed away suddenly due to cancer.
Joanie always had time for us - which we hopefully made up for by lending our time to her rescue as volunteers. Volunteering for South Bay Cat Adoptions was always a joy and never an obligation. Getting to spend hours with the kitties, petting them and playing with them - helping the shy ones open up, loving extra hard on the sad or lonely ones, and then seeing them find their families and wishing them the best for the rest of their nine lives was not only rewarding, but often a therapeutic experience (maybe the happiness was hiding in all the fur covering my clothes by the end of the day).
The work of cat rescue is not always happy, however. Sometimes, perhaps a lot of times, it is hard, overwhelming and heartbreaking. Sometimes, it does not matter how much you wish for a happy ending, how much love and effort and heart you put into saving a life. Sometimes, at the end of the day, the number of the ones that still need saving makes you question if you have even made a difference.
Joanie not only has the biggest heart - but is one of the bravest, most caring and most resilient people I have ever met. For every loss, every failed attempt, every heartbreak I saw her endure, I am sure there are many more that maybe none of us have any idea about. All that while answering the texts about runny noses and infected ears and new cats found that needed help all the time.
After the abandoned cats kept on showing up practically on our doorstep as well, I have concluded that we have acquired something I have come to call The Beacon. It is a beam of light only visible to the lost, the hungry, the left-behinds: the cats that need saving. They see the light and they know they can come to us and we will try our best for them.
After Joanie leaves, San Diego will become a lot darker. We will lose the light that shined on so many little lives and lifted them from hopelessness to safety and love.
Two of those little kitties that were saved are currently cuddling on my bed, sleeping soundly with their bellies full. (They would also never let me write something this long if they were hungry.) It always warms my heart to think of all the others, the ones maybe on your lap or next to you on the couch as you read this. As for Joanie, I am sure knowing those happy kitties are out there was what helped her carry the burden of all of the other things - what helped her to keep the light shining this long.
I will miss being able to see you Joanie, and being able to get together. I am sure there are many on this page who will miss you too. And I am sure many are a little bit afraid of the darkness that will be left behind, as am I.
Because we are not like you - we might not know what to do if we find an orphaned kitten crying for its mama. Or how to trap the big tom that is always hanging around the backyard. Our Beacon doesn’t shine as bright.
But maybe it doesn’t have to. Maybe if we all decide to do our best as the many little Beacons we are, the South Bay and the Chula Vista area you spent so many years or your life trying to make a difference for, can still remain a bit brighter because of all the lives you have touched. Maybe that would be a fitting parting present. (Although I am sure Joanie will also very much appreciate even the simplest “safe journey” texts as well, so please send some her way if you have a moment.)
And check in with her every now and then, maybe when one of those little rescued cats comes up to you and acts especially cute. 🙂
Finally, I want to share a little story I read somewhere online that makes me think of her every time. Joanie - thank you so much: for our cats, for your love and support, for all the times together, and the many things I am unable to put into words. Have a safe journey and I hope to hear from you often. Love: Anna.
One morning, an old man noticed a little girl walking along the beach. On the sand were thousands of stranded starfish, slowly drying out in the warming air. The little girl was picking them up one by one and throwing them back into the ocean.
“Why even try?” Asked the old man to the girl. “Can’t you see that it is futile? The sun is coming up and there are thousands of them. What difference do you think you can make?”
Without saying anything, the little girl bent down and picked up another starfish, and threw it back. Once she saw it submerged by the rushing waves, she turned to the old man, and said: “It made a difference for that one.”
