It was late last Monday when I finally decided the day had been enough and I was heading for home.  I made my way across town—which takes all of five minutes—turned on my street and then into my driveway.  And there, half way between the street and the house (total driveway length = 2/10 of a mile . . . you can do the math), sat a kitten.  My cat radar was on high alert even before I discerned that it was a kitten rather than a possum . . . or a raccoon . . . or a fox . . . or an armadillo . . . all of which inhabit our property.  Of course, it helped that it was sitting in such a way that my headlights caught its eyes, giving them that eerie glow that only cat eyes in pitch darkness can produce.

I stopped the van, killed the engine but left the lights on, and got out.  Speaking softly and moving slowly, I began my approach, expecting it to dart into the woods at any moment.  I could not have been more wrong.  The little thing uncurled from its little cat wad, stretched as cats are prone to stretching, and came strolling over to me.  There was no fear of humans, no hesitation until I repeatedly proved that I was worthy, just absolute trust . . . and hunger.  It jumped into the van so I drove to the top of the hill, took it inside and fed it, all the while muttering over and over, “I can’t have nine cats.  No one has nine cats . . . no one except crazy old cat ladies . . .“

Wait a minute . . .

Now, upon a review of the circumstances, I can say without a doubt someone dropped that cat on our property.  How can I be so certain?  Kindly consider the following evidence: It had no fear of humans so someone had played with this kitten and domesticated it.  Anyone who has ever tried to make friends with a feral cat can attest to this.  Also, we live in the middle of 42 acres.  Nothing just “wanders up” to the middle of 42 acres . . . except Callie Cat who showed up on the back steps at 2:45 one morning.  But every rule generally has an exception.

It is especially disturbing to me when someone just dumps an animal or, heaven forbid, animals on someone else’s property.  Maybe it makes them feel better; they can convince themselves it will be found and someone will keep it and love it and care for it.  They never want to think it will probably end up deceased from any number of causes.

Unfortunately, far too many times people are abandoned, too.  Oh, their care may be arranged, but the familiar faces of family are replaced by those of paid caregivers.  It’s difficult to fathom how someone can take a parent or a spouse or a sibling, place them in some sort of facility, and just walk away, never to return.  Please, don’t misunderstand what I’m saying.  I know there are circumstances where people we love have to enter nursing homes and assisted living facilities simply because their needs have become greater than one person or even a team of people can meet.  My issues come when no one ever looks back until time for the funeral—and sometimes not even then.

Are there people in our lives who don’t deserve our time and attention?  *sigh*  Probably so, but the Golden Rule tells us to “Do unto others as we would have them do unto us,” not as they did.  Even if they’re the worst human beings on the planet, the laws in the State of Tennessee still give the legal next-of-kin not only the right but the responsibility to see after the disposition of their remains.  If you choose not to, that is certainly your decision, but it’s very helpful if you let everyone know immediately so the proper documents can be executed and we can move on to the next next-of-kin.  Otherwise, there’s going to be an awful lot of waiting when somewhere down the kinship line there might be someone not only willing to function, but begging to be allowed to do just that.

So what’s the moral to the story?  If for whatever reason there will be no one willing or able to care for you when Death comes to call, kindly find someone outside the line of kinship who will accept the responsibility and make them your Durable Power of Attorney for Healthcare—and provide the funding so they’ll actually be able to accomplish the mission.  You can’t change someone’s willingness or availability to function, but you can certainly make other arrangements when your crystal ball tells you there will be problems in the future.

And by the way . . . if anyone needs a really sweet, rather affectionate kitty, I happen to know of one that might be available . . .

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