For a Friend.

Many things can motivate us, can snap us into action or change our mindset. A catalyst can be anything from job loss to death to illness, but it usually takes us by surprise and we learn what instinct truly is.

On a typical Friday night, I sat in front of my computer watching a DVD, the original 1972 Solaris. It was a change of pace from a more action-packed film I'd seen earlier in the day with my friends, Pirates of the Caribbean: At World's End. My dad was in the living room watching TV, whilst my mom potted plants out on the verandah. Other than the occasional cry of “watch the cat!” when she'd come back in the house for something, it was quiet. Then I heard:

“He got out!”

“What?! Go get him!”

There was no thinking involved. I was on my feet in a heartbeat, past my mom in the kitchen looking for food to lure our little friend back, past my dad watching television, looking over his shoulder at our screen door, and finally outside where I saw Chirp's little black tail disappear around a corner into the darkness of our yard.

Indoors, he loves attention. A snap of the fingers and he'll appear, throw himself at your feet or leap to the nearest table and roll around until you pet him. But when he gets a chance to explore, to run down to the basement or outside, he'll only return when he's ready.

Thankfully, he has some white fur, so I caught a glimpse of him before he headed up a trail into my mom's garden. I knew I'd never catch him if I followed, but I also knew where the trail came out, so I ran ahead, and up some makeshift steps made of rocks. “Where is he?” called my mom, shaking a container of cat food. I told her to head him off, but somehow in the dark she misunderstood. She passed the other entrance to the trail, giving him a clear path to run away from me. But, he was headed back to the house.

“DIDJAFINDIM??” cried my dad, loudly slamming open the screen door and spooking Chirp so he sprinted away from the house once more, across our front yard toward the street. Now my mom and I both followed, snapping fingers and shaking food. I ran out wide into our driveway, and curved back in, descending upon a small dark shape in front of our hedge, scooping up what I prayed was my cat and not a raccoon or a possum. He purred and curled against me, enjoying the game.

Inside, my conscious mind started working again. I hoped the neighbors hadn't looked out at any time, as I was only wearing shorts and no shirt. That must have been some show. But the real epiphany came with my bare feet, as I realized I'd run across wood chips and who knows what else out there. I was so focused on recovering my pal, I could have been running on hot coals. Each step hurt, and even brushing my ankles against something hurt. Were there splinters? I asked my mom what she had growing out there that might have thorns, and ultimately we realized I'd run through some cacti with fine needles. I've been over both of my feet with a pair of tweezers, and I still haven't found them all. Ouch.

The things I'll do for a friend...