Lost and Found

June 23rd 2023

Quiet morning sunlight arose and poured its way through the windows, warming the room and highlighting the rich hardwoods. Shadows of the tree branches, blanketed by young spring leaves, danced about on the empty cream colored walls. Griffin lay quietly in the corner of the room, his tail flicking periodically, brushing up bits of hair clippings and collecting them in his tail. His grey coat was speckled with white hairs; a sign of time gone by.

He was a stray, before you, and though he often bolted under chairs when clients arrived, his eyes spoke of thankfulness and love.

I entered the room and as I stepped in the place where your feet once stood, the floor creaked quietly, welcoming me. Griffin’s ears perked up at the sound, but he lay still. I reached for the back of the salon chair and rested my hands on it, peering up into the mirror.

We sat for quite some time, waiting until the sun rose above us and out of sight. Eventually, the feline stood to his feet, reached forward, stretching, and sauntered toward the front door. I met him there and opened it as he slipped through the opening, trotted out into the yard, and disappeared behind a row of rose bushes.