Yesterday I had to take my cats to the vet. My normal vet was closed, so I ended up taking them to another that I had never been to before. The receptionist and veterinary techs were wonderful, as was the Doctor. It took a little longer than expected because they were so busy, so as I waited for the test results I decided to read. When they finally came back, everything was clear so I grabbed the cat carriers and walked to reception to pay my bill. I was quite relieved about the results and felt like a burden had been lifted off my shoulders. I had worried about it the entire drive to the office.
As I stood in line and waited to pay my bill, I noticed a cute, elderly lady standing at the counter. She seemed so distraught. She asked the receptionist if the kitten she brought in the day before was doing ok. Of course, my interest peaked at the word “kitten”. That’s the equivalent of the word “coffee” in my book. She noticed that I had started to pay attention so she took out her cell phone, and started to show me the pictures she had taken of the kitten. I had to giggle when she started to flip through her cell phone gallery. She kept commenting “oh, you don’t need to see that”. It was completely innocent but it made me chuckle.
The kitten had wandered into her backyard so she brought her to the office after consulting with a rescue organization. Unfortunately, her visit yesterday was for another reason entirely. Her mother’s dog was incredibly ill, and had to be mercifully relieved of the pain. I felt such compassion and love for this stranger that I hugged her. I understood completely. She needed that comfort and peace.
She told me about the loss of her mother the year before, and how she took care of her. I said to her “And now you feel like you are losing her all over again”. She nodded. I knew and understood that too. I shook her hand, and introduced myself. The bridge had already been formed, all that was needed was a flag on top. Her name was Eva.
She went on to tell me that she had been born in Portugal, prematurely. She never knew the story of the loss of her mother, so she called her sister for an explanation. Her mother had a burst appendix, and when help arrived, they found Eva. She wasn’t abandoned, she was found; just like the kitten. I offered to sit with her. Poor Brian was in the car waiting on me but I couldn’t help myself. She politely declined.
As I left, she thanked me and blew me a kiss as I walked out the door. My personal belief is that every single thing that occurred that morning led me to that moment. That office was open. The wait was longer than usual. It wasn’t a coincidence. I think hope can spring from the most unexpected of places; sometimes it might just be in a veterinary office.