Tag Archives: reunion

If you’ve ever loved a pet…

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I’m going to share a local story that made me cry.

But in a good way, as it has a beautiful ending.

Mainers have been following updates on this tale for the past few weeks and the entire timeline below is quoted from Sullivan Sanctuary.

Let me know if you’re crying at the end too.

😉

Hi… my name has been Pie, and Charlie, and Phoenix.
But today, I want to tell you my whole story — the way I lived it.

When I was a tiny kitten, a little girl named Abby picked me up and held me close. She was seven, and she smelled like crayons and summertime. She named me Pie, and I loved the way she said it — soft and warm, like a hug. I grew up with her. I slept on her pillow every night. I followed her everywhere. I was her best friend, and she was mine.

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One day, when Abby was eighteen, she took me to Petco in xxxxxx to be groomed. We lived in xxxxxx, so the drive felt familiar. But when we got there… something scared me. A noise, a smell, a moment too big. I panicked. I ran. I didn’t mean to. I didn’t want to leave her. But my paws carried me into the woods behind the parking lot, and suddenly I couldn’t find her anymore.

I heard her calling for me.
I heard her crying.
I tried to go back, but I was too scared and too lost.

For days, Abby and her family searched. They walked the woods. They called my name. They made flyers and hung them everywhere. I saw one once — my own face staring back at me — but I didn’t know how to get home.

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July turned into August. Abby had to leave for college. I didn’t know that, but I felt her sadness in the air. I felt the world change.

And I kept walking.

For two long months, I wandered through Maine’s woods. I slept under trees. I hid from storms. I was hungry, scared, tired, and lonely. But I kept going, because something inside me whispered that love might still be out there.

One late September day, I came upon a house in xxxxx . I was so tired. My paws hurt. My belly hurt. My heart hurt. A young boy walked into the yard — gentle, quiet, kind. His name was Joey.

He knelt down slowly.
I walked to him.
And for the first time in months… I felt safe.

Joey called me Charlie. It wasn’t the name I grew up with, but it felt like love. And I could tell Joey needed me. So I stayed.

For five beautiful years, I was Joey’s cat. I greeted him after school. I slept beside him. I played with his siblings. I watched him grow up. I loved him, too — because my heart has always had room for more.

Meanwhile, Abby was growing up far away. She went to college. She fell in love. She built her life. But when her father passed away suddenly three years ago, she started searching for me again. She checked shelters. She checked social media. She held onto a tiny hope that I might still be alive.

I didn’t know she was looking for me.
But I never stopped loving her.

In January 2026, my body started to feel strange. I was losing weight. I was having accidents. I didn’t understand what was happening. Joey’s mom took me to the vet, and they said I was an older diabetic cat. Joey gave me insulin every day. He tried so hard to help me.

But in September, Joey’s family went on a weekend trip. Someone was coming to feed me and give me my medicine, but I fell asleep in the sun and missed my dose. The next day, I felt dizzy and confused. My legs didn’t work right. I wandered away — not far, but far enough that I couldn’t get back.

I saw a kind lady. I walked up to her because I didn’t feel good and I didn’t know what else to do. She gave me food and water and called for help.

That’s when Sullivan Sanctuary found me.

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Peyton and Lindsay scooped me up gently, whispering soft things. They brought me to Casey, who made me a warm bed and called me Phoenix, because I looked like a cat trying to rise again. They rushed me to the emergency vet because they knew I was in trouble.

They tried to find my family — and they did. Joey’s mom was so worried. They loved me so much. But when they learned how sick I was, they made the brave, heartbreaking choice to let the Sanctuary take over so I could survive.

They saved my life.

And then… something unbelievable happened.

A woman saw my picture online. She stared at my freckles. She sent photos. She asked questions. And suddenly everyone realized:

I wasn’t just Charlie.
I wasn’t just Phoenix.
I was Pie.
Abby’s Pie.
Her childhood best friend.

After five years, she found me.

When Abby walked into the room at the vet, I didn’t understand at first. I sniffed the air. I listened to her voice. And then… something inside me lit up like it had been waiting all this time.

I knew her.
I remembered her.
My girl.

I leaned into her hands and felt home again.

Abby and her husband followed Casey back to the Sanctuary, where Lindsay met them. Everyone cried and laughed and connected the dots of my long, winding journey. They told me I was going home.

On Sunday, I’ll go back to Abby — back to the place where I first learned what love was. I’ll see Owen, my old kitty friend. Abby will give me my medicine. And the Sanctuary will visit me. And Joey… Joey can visit too. Because I love him, and he loved me, and Abby said he will always be welcome.

I had three names.
I had three families.
And I loved them all.

I survived woods, winters, illness, and time.
I found love over and over again.
And I never stopped trying to find my way home.

My name is Pie–Charlie–Phoenix.
And this…
this is my story.

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Just looking at the final picture chokes me up.

Love.

It really does conquer all.

❤️

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This makes my heart smile.

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We had a surprise visitor the other day.

It was a childhood friend of my husband’s from Connecticut who had stopped by my BIL’s and wanted to drop in to say hello.

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After thoroughly checking out the husband’s new treasure, we moved into the man cave/Barn Mahal where I took a picture.

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(Husband’s brother on the left, old friend in the middle.)

If you look closely… in between my husband and his friend, you’ll see a framed photo on the wall.

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This photo, taken in Vietnam in 1968.

( Husband on the right, old friend on the left, brother next to old friend)

Three of those four men were reunited in our barn 56 years later.

That made my heart smile.

❤️

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In his element.

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As well as the ceremony at the Beirut Memorial, my husband’s squadron hosted a reunion dinner. And as you can imagine, being surrounded by old Marines telling stories is just about my husband’s favorite place to be.

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From left to right… Corporal, Gunny, Captain.

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The next day it was a picnic at the marina on base.

More old comrades, more stories.

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And while they were on the air station? A chance to refamiliarize themselves with the big toys.

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The V-22 Osprey, an 80 million dollars per nightmare of an aircraft. My husband worked on this program when the Marine Corps first adopted them to replace his beloved CH-46 helicopter. 30 years of R&D and they were still falling out of the sky. We had one crash down the road from our house when we lived in North Carolina and Marines were refusing orders to fly in them. Meant to assist troop deployment in the Middle East, it was discovered the intake clogged with sand which rendered it virtually useless. I’ve read they’ve finally worked out the kinks. Time will tell.

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A CH-53 Sea Stallion. The first heavy lift transport helicopter to be refueled in the air. I’ve been in one of these, they’re beasts.

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The Bell UH-1 Iroquois, otherwise known as the Huey…. the workhorse of the Marine Corps and beloved by Vietnam Veterans like my husband.

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The twin engine AH-1W Super Cobra with its blades folded down. This is a lean, mean, made for attack machine.

(Believe it or not yours truly can identify which of these choppers is flying over her head by sound alone. That’s what you get from living in a military town for 16 years.)

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Old home week… in remembrance.

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While I was cleaning and organizing closets?

My husband was flying down to Jacksonville North Carolina for a long weekend to attend his old squadron’s 40 year remembrance reunion of the Beirut bombing.

I went to the 30th ten years ago and as you might imagine, spent most of my time standing around waiting for my husband to stop talking. And though he really wanted me to go with him again, I passed.

Though I did miss visiting with our daughter of the heart, her husband and an old Marine Corps buddy…

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I knew my husband would be better off alone on this quick trip… free to catch up and have endless conversations with fellow Marines without me tapping my toe in the background.

He argued, but in the end I was right and he had a great time.

Here are a few highlights.

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The major event was the ceremony at the Beirut Memorial.

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241 servicemen lost their lives that horrible day in 1983 and the Corps does not forget their sacrifice.

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This statue is a new addition to the park and honors the Navy Corpsmen who treat and protect our Marines in combat.

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The current Commandant of the Marine Corps gave a very moving speech. The husband videoed the whole thing but I’ll just drop a photo.

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The old gentleman in the middle is General Grey. He was the Commandant in 1983 and attends this ceremony of remembrance every single year. He’s 95 years of age now and is positively beloved by the Corps.

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This is my husband with Colonel Gerahty. They served together on the USS Iwo Jima and were standing on the deck of the ship side by side when the building was bombed. I can tell by my husband’s face this was an emotional reunion.

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Being a multi national peace keeping force in 1983, the Italian Navy sent representatives.

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Some with very spiffy hats.

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My husband with the French representatives.

❤️

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