Moving from Idaho to Tennessee brought many surprises after I transported Frankie, our rescued barn cat, to my lakeside home in Tennessee. Following is a part of the Sixth Chapter:

Autumn leaves covered the driveway and a slight chill filled the air. The moving men had now delivered our possessions to our home in Tellico Village. After they left and all the cardboard boxes were deposited in specific rooms, Larry, my husband, and I began unpacking. Frankie explored his new surroundings, and, as an indoor cat, he was amazed by an open door from the kitchen to the deck on the second floor.

“What was that?” Larry asked as he sat at his desk on the ground level, putting away pencils and pens in the top drawer.

He glanced a flash of white fall down in front of him. It looked like a pillow had been dropped from the deck above. When Larry walked out the back door, he saw Frankie standing on a patch of grass twelve feet below the deck railing. Frankie wobbled forward, stunned from the fall. Because he had one blind eye and one cross-eye, he lacked depth perception. He had looked between the fence rails, but had never realized how far the drop to the ground would be. Larry gently picked him up, stroked his back, and brought him inside.

One summer evening a week later, Frankie and I followed the path to our small dock that extended into the lake. Coming from the semi-arid dessert of Idaho, he had never seen lake water before. I sat on a cushioned chair at the very end of the dock and gathered Frankie into my lap. We watched the sun’s rays sink below the horizon as I rubbed his silky fur. As the sun lost its strength, and it became darker and cooler, I said, “OK, Frankie. Let’s go inside.”

Frankie jumped from my lap and walked toward the house. He waited at the rope railing surrounding the dock and looked up. All of a sudden he leaped unto the wide brown cord. It paused for a nanosecond. Then it reacted to his surge and flung him into the lake. Frankie immediately dropped below the surface and disappeared. Small sheets of water splashed from where he had landed. I saw nothing but black water. Then his head emerged, his blue eyes wide with fright. He paddled like mad, but he was too far for me to reach as I kneeled near the edge of the dock. Finally, he turned and flicked his tail toward me. I grabbed the white extremity and pulled him closer. Grasping his body, I lifted him from the lake and cradled him in my arms, soaking my blouse and shorts. It was time to go back and wrap him in towels. This frightening experience was just another episode I had with my very adventurous cat, Frankie.