As part of the world is getting ready to call it a day, half of the other part welcomes the sunrise.
I cannot be more glad to do both.
For the whole week, when Sheilla has been taken off the bridge by Chikungunya fever; from captain to sailor, to navigator to deck soldier, I have been up, down and back again to keep the entire ship floating. Bonus challenge: on the days when wind is a wee bit kinder, I need to keep the whole thing cruisin’.
Now that my mate is out of danger and is recuperating, I cannot be more glad to call it the week. Sheilla will need several more days, or week, until the bad aftertaste of her virus has completely waned off, but it also means that today and forward, every day will be better than the last, and I cannot be more glad to welcome the new hope that comes with the next sunrise.
I am sending you all my apology for my sparse existence, for withholding the stories that have kept each and everyone of us on the edge of our seat, and for delaying the sigh of relief with every victory we made on behalf of abandoned, neglected, and abused cats on the streets of the hillside.
But far more than that, I would extend my gratitude even further, for you all who stand by in your faith and support, though I am almost nowhere to be seen. Trust me, I have been around (literally), just on different plains.
Though the waters have not yet become clear and calm, we won’t have the luxury of docking anchor any longer. With the hopes and chances for 160 cats at our shelter and many more on the streets, we will embark this new week with what force we have left and faith that out there, in the open sea, you will be our guiding light and guardian angels who will lend us the strength and perseverance to deliver these cats into better days.