cellodreams: January 2008

Jake the Missing

Jake

Jake is missing, and I’m missing Jake. Actually he’s been missing for about 2 years. But now … Jake sightings!

Jake was never really my cat. He belonged to my neighbor and had free rein of the neighborhood. And reign he did! For about five years he charmed everyone on the block with his regal manner and clever antics. He knew how to connive a meal from every resident on the street. He even finagled free medical care from the veterinarian’s office around the corner, cunningly making his way onto the porch so the vet’s wife would notice him. Eventually he stealthily made his way into my house so he could curl up in a cozy corner of the basement on chilly winter nights. Somehow I allowed this to happen even though I’d had some serious cat-induced allergy problems in the past. Jake was special.

… I should say, Jake is special. I think I may have found Jake. Over the past several months on our daily morning walks we’ve seen a very Jake-like cat ... just a quarter mile from here as the crow flies. Not far at all for Jake. He knows his way around.

Jake had it good here in this neighborhood, but I know why he left. My neighbor had a dog and several other cats besides Jake. So Jake migrated here. My daughter doted on him, and he thrived. But the other cats began to multiply and also migrated to this side of the street. And my daughter doted. And they all thrived. But Jake was visibly upset. Orange cats had invaded his territory. Then one day he was just gone. Neighbors wondered and worried, and one afternoon even the vet’s wife knocked on my door to ask if I’d seen him.

So now, two years later I think I’ve located him. Why do I think this cat is Jake:

He responds to music being whistled, especially Bach's Minuet in G(the same way Jake always did)
He walked up close to me a few times with his tail in the air when I whistled.
He has a tiny little bib of white fur like Jake.
He did the “flop-over” when I talked to him.
It would be just like Jake to find a better neighborhood!

Jake the Patriot

With my daughter

Sharing some space with an orange cat

You're so Jake, you prob'ly think this blog is about you ...

Labels: cats, Jake

Bittersweet Sixteen

Well, there it was – a letter addressed “To the Parents of Donna _____.” My parents. It arrived a few weeks before Christmas. No, not the Christmas of 1962 when I was 16; I mean just this past Christmas.

With a bittersweet smile I fancied delivering the letter, wistfully wishing that I could travel back in time. Then nostalgically I recalled receiving letters like that from the local elementary school when my own kids were little.

But the whimsical musing quickly faded as I began to worry that this was the result of some sort of identity problem or breach of privacy. … a hoax? … a scam? The organization name on the return address did not look familiar.

A brief glance at the content of the letter seemed to prove that it was official … an invitation to travel and study abroad this summer and be a Student Ambassador with People to People International . My imagination took over as I envisioned myself meeting HannaH in Singapore or Saskia in Germany. What fun! … (Visions of traveling. Visiting amazing new places. Eating exotic foods.) OK … back to reality. “Thinking cap” time.

Obviously the folks who sent the letter thought I was 16 years old. I knew there was a reason for that, but I couldn’t quite put my finger on it. Was it because I have a blog? … Lots of teens have blogs … but Blogspot doesn’t really identify me. Then I started to think in terms of being a student. Yes, they somehow thought I was a student. But why? Well, I’m a cello student, right? OK … the thought process continued … What do I do as a cello student that would cause them think I’m 16 … and at the same time reveal my identity and post office address? AHA ... I subscribe to Teen Strings.

For now I’m assuming that’s the explanation. Let’s see if I get any college brochures in the mail this spring. Hmmm … perhaps an offer from a music conservatory?

Labels: nostalgia