Pip, lost and found
- Paula Pryce
- Mar 2
- 5 min read
Updated: Mar 16
The reconciling force of an adventuring cat (a mostly true story)
by Paula Pryce
Pip went missing. Then in his own way, Jeremy did too.
Jeremy was the young man who loved and fed her. He lost himself with the loss of Pip, but after a while, something unexpected happened. Jeremy learned that reconciliation only really comes when we give everything away.
It began like this: Jeremy moved back home. He had long been a nomad, searching out holy places in the desert, by the seashore, in wide grassy plains. Along the path, he had come across Pip, a feisty grey kitten making her living in the rubbish heaps. Jeremy brought Pip when he at last returned to his own city half a world away.
Even before he’d started unpacking, Jeremy went to the mountains across the harbour. He had dreamt of them; he’d missed the fragrance of balsam and cedar, and the loamy musk of temperate rainforest earth. He had almost forgotten how the tree canopy transformed pure sunlight into a luminous mossy veil.
On that first hike, the young man was not alone. He could hear laughter some distance ahead, and from time to time, he glimpsed a small group labouring up switchbacks. Among them was a woman he was sure he had once known. Jeremy noticed a catch in his breath; he racked his memory.
Puzzling over the unnamed woman, Jeremy absentmindedly consoled his grouchy cat later that evening. Pip was not pleased with the upside-down world she’d landed in. She glared and clawed Jeremy peevishly. “I know you’re dying to get out there, Pip, but you don’t know the neighbourhood yet. Be patient,” he said.
The terror of rodents and songbirds, Pip had always been an unconfinable adventurer. How many times had she gone off for days, even weeks, to unknown places? Now she watched for her chance: a door left ajar when Jeremy brought in the mail. Just a moment, and Pip was gone.
Jeremy searched and searched – put up posters, called the SPCA, updated the contact information on her microchip. Pip had always found her way home before, but not this time. Hunting in streets and alleys, calling out, Jeremy couldn’t help imagining Pip in a hostile world. Lost and hungry or worse, a coyote’s dinner. He was distraught. Rains came, then snow and cherry blossoms. Round after round of seasons, but no one reported a sighting. He heard nothing of Pip at all.
The young man frequently returned to the mountains. From there he'd look across the water to scan the cityscape. He couldn't help but brood. Where had Pip met her end?
Jeremy finally saw that woman on the trail again, the one he had not been able to place. He leaned against the scaly bark of an epic fir and contemplated strands of angel hair lichen hanging from branches all around. This time images formed. He remembered now why his heart had pitched when he’d first seen her. Jeremy had not treated the woman well. Broken a promise, dismissed her: youthful impudence that had hit its target. Jeremy winced in shame at the memory.
That was a long time ago, he reasoned with himself. What did it really matter at this point? Yet, despite the years – could it really be ten? – their final encounter sat like a lump of clay. Unfinished business. Business only he could finish (or at least, only he could offer to finish). He knew he couldn’t expect anything from her.
The woman’s name was Alicia. Jeremy had no way of finding her after so much time, except maybe somewhere online.
He almost yelped when he found her. Alicia’s profile photo included his very own Pip. Curled up, belly exposed, snug and contented on her lap. He could almost hear the cat’s proxy for a purr, the comical chirp he knew so well. All the sorrow and worry and desperation of losing Pip came flooding back. The visceral response hit him like the back of a malevolent hand. Adrenalin surged. He paced and ruminated, replaying the three-year-old story again and again. Resentment found its footing: why the hell hadn’t Alicia called the SPCA?
Then clarity gave Jeremy a sudden whack. He stopped. He listened. Get a grip, he said to himself. But no – not a grip. Don’t grip, just let go.
So he turned to the work of noticing and loosening the anxious knot in his belly. He returned to the root of his intention, the mystery he’d spent all those years seeking in faraway lands. The mystery nowhere but within.
Jeremy said to himself with slowing breaths, this is about reconciling with someone I’ve wronged, not about taking something away from her.
(But oh, he so wanted to have Pip at home again.)
Jeremy reached out to Alicia and despite everything, she agreed to meet him at a cafe. It was strained at first. Her distrust felt like a chain link fence. Why would he get in touch after the way things had ended?
“I’ve seen you on the trail a couple of times, off in the distance,” he began uncomfortably, “and I got thinking that something went wrong back when we knew each other.”
“Yeah,” she responded tersely. Her face darkened. “I remember.”
“I want to apologize,” said Jeremy. She raised an eyebrow at that. “I know it’s years ago, but what I did was wrong. I don’t know why I behaved that way. I just want to let you know I regret it now and I’m sorry.”
Alicia sat back and surveyed the man across the table.
“And weirdly,” Jeremy continued, “I think you have my cat.”
That took her by surprise. “Fish?”
Jeremy looked at her blankly.
“Fish. My mother gave her to me. She found the cat under a tree in the back yard. Two winters ago I think, soaking wet.” She paused. “How – ?”
“What are the chances, I know. I was trying to find you and there she was. Pip.”
Now Alicia looked alarmed. “My mom called her Fish because she’s silver and too squirmy to hold.”
“Good name for her.” Jeremy was not doing the best job of masking his misery.
“I lost a friend - cancer - so Mom let me have her,” said Alicia. She was watching him.
“Fish was a good catch, Alicia.” He took a breath and gave an uncertain smile. “I’m happy that Pip was able to see you through rough times.” After a while, he added, “I guess I could take some lessons in friendship from her.”
Alicia looked into her coffee cup. “Do you want me to – ” She fell silent.
“Would you let me visit her sometimes?” Jeremy asked quietly.
“You mean — but that would mean seeing me too.”
“I’m okay with that if you are. I could cat-sit if you ever wanted to go away,” he said. “Maybe we could even go hiking.” But Jeremy couldn’t hold back another moment. “Do you think I could I see her now? Or soon? Please.”
Alicia stood and faced the window. Her eyes moved to peaks on the horizon, where dark forest and brilliant sky met.
“Come on, then,” Alicia said simply. “Let’s go find Fish.” She turned back, gesturing for him to follow. Then she held the door open.
Paula Pryce writes reflections for The Contemplative Society on an ongoing basis. She is a cultural anthropologist and writer who specializes in ritual studies and contemplative religions. Her publications include The Monk’s Cell: Ritual and Knowledge in American Contemplative Christianity.
To connect with Paula about this reflection, please feel free to comment below. She will check in and respond periodically.
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