By Jeanette M. Pintar - with inspiration from Misty

Our second home in Georgia came luxuriously equipped with a balcony. Although there was no place to string up a hammock, my Dad custom-crafted a beautiful wooden bench swing for us. Mark, Misty, and I would greet the mornings swaying back and forth in a gentle glide. Little by little I added plants through-out the summer to create a miniature tropical paradise. After Misty had enough of the swing, she'd climb up her Kitty Condo to sit on the wooden rail of the balcony so she could be near the flowers. It made me a bit nervous at first because Misty had been de-clawed, but it was a fairly wide rail, and I had even sat upon it a few times so I knew it was pretty sturdy. And Misty, after all, was a cat. She was quite keen on her feet and had a good sense of balance. She also had a strong appreciation for floral fragrances along with the determination to follow her passion. So I stopped worrying and Misty continued her daily ritual of basking in the sunshine on the balcony rail, even throughout the winter after the flowers were gone.

Then one day it happened… I opened the door to let Misty in from the balcony but she was no where to be seen. She wasn't on the rail so I checked under the swing and in her kitty condo. My heart pumped hard as my mind raced about what could have happened. I hoped and prayed that my "Little Baby Girl" hadn't fallen off the rail and injured herself too badly to walk home. Surely I would have heard her meowing for help -- but there was only silence…

What if she was too weak to meow? As I stepped closer to the rail to look into the bushes below, Misty's head poked out of the empty flower box! Her big yawn and dazed look stopped me in my tracks. I couldn't help but to laugh while simultaneously warding off a near heart attack as the flower box hangs over the ledge of the balcony with nothing but a two story drop below it. Having mounted the flower box myself, I knew Misty's life currently hung on four screws. Misty did too, but it didn't phase her. She wanted to do what she wanted to do. And she didn't mind taking a risk to make it happen. I think of Misty in that flower box whenever I'm faced with something that requires taking a risk and having the faith to believe the best will happen. Misty and I both understood the perils of following your passions. She taught me to focus on the result instead of the fear.

And to remember: Sometimes you gotta go out on a ledge.

--- © Jeanette M. Pintar, inspired by Misty