The True Vyne

Patches, our beloved no longer stray cat with one usable eye and precious few teeth, misses his dear boy, Peace. When Peace pulled out his trunk to pack for scout camp last week, Patches sat on top of the trunk in protest.

Patches and Peace became fast friends the day Mrs. P. from my church auditioned us as a possible adoptive family for the cat. She didn't want him to send him off to a house full of terrorizing boys, so we had to prove ourselves as nice cat folks. Mrs. P. stared slacked jawed when Peace had Patches rolled onto his back completely enjoying a heavenly kitty rub within a minute of their first meeting, "I've never seen Patches allow anyone that close!"

Peace is not just a chicken whisperer, he can charm the socks off most any creature.

Patches tolerates everyone else in the family, but Peace is his true best friend. And the feline is pining for his boy terribly this week. So much so, that Patches has let me pet him for a short time, a privilege he reserves strictly for his boy pal.

I particularly noticed the cat's deep longing today when I found him crawling into the front loading washer to sniff Peace's dirty clothes. I pulled his furry body out to begin the wash cycle (aren't you glad to hear that?), and he peered suspiciously at me with his one good eye as if to say, "What have you done with my buddy, woman?"

The reunion Sunday will be a beautiful thing to behold. Picture in slow motion, a gaunt 12 year old tow headed boy running arms flung wide toward the "yeoww" (would need proper fitting for kitty dentures to say "meow") visually and dentally impaired, belly draggin' old cat. Bring a tear to your sentimental eye?