It's hard to remember when Bailey wasn't a part of Holy Family. First, he belonged to a neighbor, but he obviously wanted to become an Episcopalian, because he escaped to our not-so-welcoming arms whenever he could. He even ripped out his people's screen porch so he could join us in worship. Far too many times, I crawled around the altar during the 8:00 am service, trying to get Bailey out and back home. At Elizabeth's adoption party, I put him out of the undercroft 17 times. There is no telling how many times others did; the persistent widow had nothing on this guy.Finally we all just gave up. His people appeared one day with his paperwork, telling us they were moving to Colorado and were afraid Bailey would walk, fly or hitchhike back to us in Chapel Hill. Cindy, our daycare director, became the keeper of the papers and the maker of vet appointments. I became the surreptitious collector of money for food and vet care. There was no shortage of donations.
Bailey pulled his weight. He attended every meeting, working the room while purring loudly, and made an appearance at every service, although he generally cut out during the sermons. He attended confirmation classes, but found the theology pedantic, so he slept through most of them. He took his naps with the children in the daycare and never bit one, even when he should have. When the health inspector came, he at first thought Bailey was a stuffed animal, until he stood and stretched, yawning in that slow, huge way that only cats do. Although the inspector docked the day care points, it was easier just to take the hit than to try to keep Bailey locked in my office for the day, something we tried a few times. Bailey was not pleased.
He kept the premises rat-free and kept us company when we had to work at night. He greeted Larry, the first day care worker on the premises, every morning. He was so much a part of us that when we took pictures for a parish directory, Bailey showed up, even though he hadn't gotten a reminder postcard. He marched stately up to the photographer, his tail high in the air, and jumped up on the chair. The photographer looked at us. "What should I do?" he asked. "He wants his picture taken," we said. "Take it." Bailey's picture appeared in that parish directory and thereafter he got reminder cards when it was picture time.
Bailey had his detractors; those who were allergic to cats, those who didn't like cats, those who didn't think cats should be drinking the holy water, there were many that felt he didn't belong there. He often slept in people's cars, scaring the bejeebers out of them when he jumped on their shoulder as they were driving away. But for every one of those, there were five others who slipped me money for Bailey's food or who showed up with a case of Fancy Feast. And Bailey had an important pastoral role. Whether it was comforting a crying daycare child or striding into a tense meeting, he did his part to keep the peace both within and among his parishioners.
At no time was this more apparent than on 9/11. We were in the library for EFM that morning when the horrible news came. Our administrator's husband was in New York, at a meeting planned for the World Trade Center. A member of the group had a son who was flying that day. As we sat watching the television in horror and fear, Bailey moved from lap to lap as we stroked him absently. He showed up to help plan the service for the evening. And he attended and sat with those who needed it. Man, did we ever need him.
One summer, we realized that Bailey hadn't been seen for several days. The staff started making inquiries, but to no avail. Larry, Cindy and I divided up animal shelters and checked them daily. Weeks went by, but we wouldn't give up. We just couldn't visualize Holy Family without Bailey. Shelter staff looked at me pityingly on my daily visits, but I explained that a cat who drank holy water regularly had to have a few more lives left. During my visits to the Orange County shelter, I fell in love with a little tortie, which I finally adopted. The next day, three months after Bailey left, Larry called me at 7:00 am. "Guess who was waiting for me this morning?" he asked. Somehow I wasn't surprised. He was much lighter but otherwise in fine condition. We postulated that he had escaped a rainy Sunday in someone's car, which then drove him to Durham or Apex or Carrboro. It had taken him that long to find his way back to us, but of course he did.
The next phone call wasn't so happy. It was about a year later when our priest called to tell me that Bailey had been hit by a car. Cindy took him to the vet, but his injuries were too serious and he was put to sleep. Larry had found him waiting outside the daycare when he arrived that morning. Injured though he was, he came back to us one more time.
He rests, I hope in peace, in the church garden. There were those who wanted to get another cat, but I explained that you don't choose a church cat, they choose you. We were honored for a time to have Bailey in our communal lives and I look forward to seeing him again at the heavenly banquet. And I don't want to hear any silliness about cats not making it to the Kingdom. This cat drank holy water.
Best cat ever
Have I told you the story about another cat who got stuck in a window well at Holy Family on the Saturday before Palm Sunday? The EYC, who were under protest, making all the palm crosses for Sunday, found the pitiful animal.... Decided he was hungry. Poured the cream for Sunday's coffee over the reserve supply of communion wafers and he ate well!.... I believe we had to use Wonder bread for communion that Sunday and yours truly was in some very hot water.
ReplyDeleteWhat a great piece of Holy Family memory! Was that when your father was priest? What ever happened to this cat?
ReplyDeleteBailey really was the best cat ever. And the most catechized and sacramental cat ever. Didn't some of the kids baptize him?
ReplyDeleteProbably. They baptized everyone and everything so I assume so. But I never knew for sure.
ReplyDeleteSheryl Forbis told me that sometimes Bailey was the only "person" who showed up when she did evening prayer services. She said that he sat next to her and looked at the prayer book while she read from it and when she had to write in the book about how many attended, she entered "2" into the column.
ReplyDeleteI hope people will continue to put good Bailey stories in the comments. I didn't know the one about evening prayer. That's great.
ReplyDeleteI miss Bailey. He was so much a part of our community that it's still strange to go to CHF without him. In fact, he went right in front of us in line for the parish directory picture taking. He honestly strode into the library and hopped right up on the chair, staring, dignified, straight at the camera. It was absolutely perfect.
ReplyDeleteOh, and who could forget Bailey's evil twin? He was a cat, I think from Bailey's original household, who looked exactly like Bailey but was definitely NOT a people person. Every time I'd start to pick "Bailey" up, I worried (with good reason) that I was about to get scratched in the face. And I did, more than once. Fortunately, he didn't come inside the church nearly as often as Bailey.
However, Alex has such a severe cat allergy - sneezing, runny nose, etc., but he also breaks out in terrible hives - that he sometimes has a bad reaction just from being around people who own cats. I can't imagine having to choose between CHF (and Bailey) and Alex's health. As much as we loved and miss Bailey, I'm relieved that we don't have to.
-Cathy E.
The evil twin's name was Wrong Kitty. Or at least that is what we called him.
ReplyDeleteMaybe Wrong Kitty was the culprit about a week after Bailey died. Rob and I were carpooling after choir, and there was Bailey sitting on the low wall by the side parking lot. I was freaked out and asked Rob if he saw what I saw. I seriously thought it was Bailey's ghost at first, until WK moved and walked off.
ReplyDeleteBailey used to come to choir practice, for both adult and Compline choirs. Boyd often chased Bailey off, in part because Bailey would jump on the piano and add his special touch to the chords. When Bailey was behaving more socially and less musically, though, he would rub against all the choir members' legs and hop in our laps or on our coats. I often had to wake him up from a nap on my sweater or bag. I guess it's just as well that he passed on before two seeing eye dogs joined the congregation, but it was nice to have someone who liked us all so much.
My favorite image of Bailey is of him drinking from the holy water basin.
I almost forgot about before we had the "new" sanctuary and the choir sang in the balcony, where the pipe organ pipes were. Bailey liked to get in amongst those, although I can't imagine why. We'd have to try to remember to keep the door to the balcony shut to prevent him hiding and getting stuck up there. Poor Boyd. Bailey probably gave Boyd more trouble than he did anyone else.
ReplyDeleteI never knew Wrong Kitty's name, but it fits perfectly.