Belonging

​Brass frog soap holder... don't mind if I do!

How on earth could I pass up such a treasure? I was absolutely thrilled to bring home Mr. Frog. I'm still not sure whether he'll spend his days holding a bar of soap or be promoted to some other important job in the kitchen, but either way, he settled into our home as if he'd always belonged here.

Our sweet basement cat seems to be doing the very same thing... although she's still convinced that anyone who comes to the front door is a reason to disappear into hiding.

Yesterday, we had a bit of a scare when the door was accidentally left open. Tim was immediately convinced she had made a run for freedom. I, on the other hand, was convinced she hadn't gone anywhere.

The next few hours were an emotional roller coaster for Timothy. His imagination sped straight down Worst-Case Scenario Highway, while I kept trying to reassure him that this was a cat who had survived years on the mean streets. If anything, she'd mastered the art of hiding, not escaping. Once a cat learns how to disappear, they're practically invisible when they want to be.

I had to leave to teach Mahjong, so I left Tim sitting quietly, worried sick, certain we'd lost her for good.

When I returned a few hours later, I opened the front door just in time to see a familiar blur of fur dart from upstairs back down to the basement. Tim was sitting in the kitchen and had completely missed the sighting. He almost didn't believe me until he hurried downstairs and found her calmly eating her dinner as though absolutely nothing had happened.

Crisis over.

Tim came back upstairs, announcing that he was mad at her for putting him through such an ordeal. Five minutes later, of course, he was right back downstairs petting her and showering her with love. So much for holding a grudge.

I never really believed she had left. Maybe it's foolish optimism, but I just couldn't imagine that after finally finding warmth, safety, regular meals, and people who adore her, she'd choose to leave. Home has a way of becoming exactly where you're meant to be.

And now Mr. Frog has found his home too, joining my ever-growing museum of treasures, curiosities, and wonderfully odd little finds that somehow always seem to fit right in.

Turns out there's room here for rescued cats, brass frogs, and a whole lot of optimism.

Some things aren't found...they simply find where they belong.

"We are all just walking each other home." — Ram Dass