SPECIAL NOTE:
To the Houston Police Department motorcade that worked the funeral processions on July 6, 2023, at the Houston Veterans Memorial Cemetery, I hope this reaches you.
By Shari L. Gould
In the middle of the two-lane road called Veterans Memorial Drive laid a tuxedo cat. Its silky black and white fur is drenched by the torrential rains pouring on the funeral procession of the next veteran to be honored at the Houston Veterans Memorial Cemetery. The ceremony of Joseph Rucker Pyle, Uncle Joe to me, just ended, attendees paying their final respects for his service as a Military Police Officer, K-9 Unit, in the Vietnam War. Just starting to dry off as we leave our veteran’s graveside service in our Tesla, we spot something in the road. We pull to the side of the road in preparation for the on-coming funeral procession. As we approach the object in the road, we realize it is an animal that looks injured.
The next funeral procession approaches, led by a law enforcement motorcade. As the first two motorcycles approach our Tesla, the officer closest to our Tesla points in the direction of a tuxedo cat lying in the middle of the road. The officer’s bike swerves slightly as he looks back to check on the tuxedo cat, then looks at Steve and points to the cat.
Huge green eyes look up at us from the middle of the road, his silky, soaked, black and white fur, glistens in the rain. Long white whiskers contrast the black fur on this perfectly symmetrical face. Terrified eyes pierce our souls as the tuxedo begs to be rescued from traffic, rain. Clothes just beginning to dry, Steve leaps from the Tesla to scoop the kitty off the roadway, before the funeral procession passes. Unsure if the tuxedo cat is injured, and fully prepared to be attacked if so, Steve carefully lifts tuxedo cat up and gently places him into the grass on our side of the road. Steve returns to the driver’s seat, clothes sopping wet again. The funeral procession passes by on our left as we scan from the safe confines of our Tesla, the grass on our right. As Steve, Mama and I look to the side of the road for any sign of the rescued tuxedo cat, Steve assures us the kitty seems to be unharmed, by some stroke of a miracle. Not seeing the cat, I open the passenger door, lean out out, look under the Tesla and see nothing. We all turn to look at the farmhouses in the distance across the two-lane road, the perimeter of the car and to the lines of perfectly arranged tombstones to our right, where Uncle Joe now rests. Tuxedo’s whereabouts are unknown, but we pray for his safety.
The miracle kitty saved on Veterans Memorial Drive magically disappears. We search our perimeter once again. Nothing. Our electric Tesla quietly and slowly emerges from the side of the now-vacant road, headed to the post-funeral gathering at Uncle Joe’s favorite restaurant, Pappasito’s.
We tell friends all about our adventure with rescuing the perfectly-marked tuxedo cat. Speaking the words of our experience sounds somewhat surreal. We laugh and joke that law enforcement officers are obsessed with saving animals, thinking of the motorcycle officer. We are convinced the officer would have stopped the motorcade to rescue this tuxedo cat if we had not been at the right place, right time.
Two hours later, we say our goodbyes to Uncle Joe’s family, and the three of us head back to Mama’s house some 30 miles away, the rain having subsided. Steve pulls the Tesla near the garage where an outlet is within reach in the garage to charge the car for tomorrow’s trip back home. Steve and I head back to Dallas the next morning on Friday, as responsibility calls. We arrive safely home and play catch up with life.
Saturday morning comes and goes. Laundry day for Mama, she’s in the garage hanging clothes and hears a meow. She says, “Sassy?” and goes back inside the house to make sure her cat didn’t escape, as she’s prone to do. Sassy comes to see what’s up, safe inside the haven of the house she rules. Confused, Mama goes back to the laundry area of the garage and hears the meow again. She follows the sound, only to find a tuxedo cat in front of Daddy’s broken-down Stingray.
Mama scoops the tuxedo cat into her arms, and purring madly, tuxedo cat is rescued once again. Mama text messages me, “Tell me how this happened??? In the garage”. I see a photo of Mama and a tuxedo cat with big, green eyes looking at me. Tuxedo cat looks disheveled, but healthy. Inside Mama’s house, she reports, the new kitty meets his new friend Sassy, her territory instantly threatened. An adjustment period begins. New kitty is not fazed by Sassy’s hissing and growling. Tuxedo cat remains docile. That cat, completely at ease.
Steve, Mama and I remain convinced my late Daddy – an animal fanatic and former law enforcement officer – gifted Mama with this miracle kitty. A tribute to Uncle Joe, my father’s former business partner, the tuxedo kitty rescued on Veterans Memorial Drive, bears the name Jose (Spanish for Joe for those that don’t know).
In retrospect, Jose apparently climbed to safety in the undercarriage of our quiet and safe electric Tesla. Tucked away out of the rain, Jose waited for his new Mama to finish eating at Pappasito’s and traveled 30 miles to his new home. Tesla plugged in to charge for our trip home, tuxedo kitty sneaks out of the Tesla, waiting to sense his new Mama’s presence. Jose found his home.
Uncle Joe was laid to rest six months to the day of Daddy’s funeral. Both Mama, and Uncle Joe’s widow, Mini, share a bond as wives of these two accomplished law enforcement officers. They have partnered again “on the other side”.
A void exists at home and always will for Mama and Mini without Daddy and Uncle Joe. Apparently Sassy cat was not enough to fill the void at Mama’s house, so God gifted her with the sweet tuxedo cat. We’re convinced that Daddy up in Heaven has something to do with Jose’s miraculous reappearance. After all, he’s the one that brought home countless dogs and cats throughout my childhood, all rescues.
For Mama, the day Jose appeared in the roadway, took his long ride home, then reappeared in bthe loving arms of Mama, well, nothing short of a miracle. It begs the question, who rescued whom that day?
