The Cat Saga Continues
As those of you who follow my person FB Page may already know, for a brief but excruciating time, on Wednesday Harry went missing!
If you read here often enough you know all about my Harry, the fact that he has a bum leg, and he’s fourteen years old, and he believes he is the King of the Street. Old Don Gato. I have to admit, seeing as how he’s the oldest four legged resident of this street…he’s probably right about his position in the Domestic Animal Kingdom of The Hospital Neighborhood.😉
I called for him soon after I made that post and he did not come which is very unusual for Master Harold. He may not always come like a dog but, when called, he does make his presence known even if he doesn’t approach the door. Yes, sometimes we have to go out there, pick him up, and bring him in. Little Prince. I told you. I looked all around his usual haunts; the boat, under the smoke bush, under the deck, by the front steps, sunning himself on the broken sidewalk or lounging in the dappled shade at the end of the driveway.
I told myself not to panic because for 14 years Harry has rarely failed to meet hubby when he comes from work. Surely, Harry would show up for then for his regular pets and kudos. Hubby came home. No Harry.
I found that I couldn’t actually call for him. The idea that he wouldn’t come to the sound of my voice hurt too much. I’d rather never call for him again then to suffer through that silence like I did with Charlie.
Luckily, shortly after dinner as hubby was standing at the kitchen window he called out; “There’s Harry!”
Sure enough there was Harry trotting up the yard to beat the band. I let him and he hasn’t been out since. I admit I’ve been ‘trying’ to keep him inside but he hasn’t shown much interest in returning to the Big Bad World which is strange for my Big Black Hunter. Even at his age. Oh yes he got many extra cuddles and pets and bits of people food as we waited without much hope for Miss Luna to come home.
Thursday morning we woke up and Miss Luna was at the deck door just like always. Well, she was on the table huddled against the window screen and began crying as soon as she heard someone coming down the stairs. Like Harry, she ran inside as fast as she could and has not shown the slightest interest in going back outside. Harry has sauntered to a door once or twice but then either walked away or very easily obliged when lightly shooed from it. Luna hasn’t even looked out the deck door. Both of them love outside. Although it took Luna quite a while to realize she wasn’t supposed to poop outside, she’d be out all day then cry to come in so she could run downstairs and use the cat box.
I hate the idea of forcing them to stay inside so thankfully it hasn’t come anywhere near that. Cats are natural hunters they’re meant to be outside chasing things and sunning themselves so long as they bring their butts in at night and not make their human mothers worry. I know that gets very difficult for them in the nice weather.😉
They are home and that’s good news but their behavior worries me. It’s almost as though they’re very aware they barely escaped some type of nasty fate be it coyote, psycho. or hoarder.
As to the coyote theory, I’ve discussed this with several friends who live in the country where there are mountain lions, wolves, and coyotes. People who would be very familiar with the patterns of such wild creatures. I’ve explained to them that my little corner of the city actually hides an entrance to probably one of the largest wooded areas within the city. So it’s common that coyotes might come down to this edge of their woods to hunt but they agree the number of Missing Cat posters in this small radius in on the larger side of things and that the plethora of missing black cats is troublesome. They say that a coyote will go after what moves it doesn’t care what color it is.
I don’t want to discuss the psycho…I’ll save him and the juicy bits of that whole thing for some future story. It’s the hoarder that bothers me the most. That’s mainly because I expect the psycho not to be moved by the abundance of Missing Cat posters. He’s a cold-blooded killer he’d get a kick out of the posters, the hope, and the pain behind them… (I’m a writer…remember?)… The hoarder should know better. They should see those posters and understand that someone is missing that animal. The cat is loved, wanted, and well cared for by the family who considers it a big part of the unit. They should feel guilty. They should nut up and return the cat.
As a writer I’m trying to envision someone far less sinister and remember myself when I was young. I brought home a lot of stray cats until boys caught my eye. I didn’t mean any harm I thought I was doing something good. Yet my mother taught me how to tell a stray from a cat that has a home by; the condition of its fur, its weight, and its friendliness. If its fat, silky, and friendly chances are it has a home. Be nice to it but leave it alone and it will find its way back to the family that’s waiting for it. If it’s matted, flea-bitten, skinny and skittish chances are, if f you can get it to ‘follow you home’, it’s all yours.
In either event, the point is, don’t steal from people. Use some common sense and think outside yourself. I know, hoarders can’t really help it or so they tell me, but that doesn’t mean they aren’t aware of what they’re doing and the possible repercussions of it.
The repercussion in my own family has been the natural transition under such circumstances; we’re getting a dog. A very big dog to guard our cats. I’m thinking Rottweiler. He will have full roam of the yard with an invisible fence for a barrier. I’ll try to train the cats to use it too. If anyone reaches over to grab one of them I hope they bleed out on the cracked sidewalk within sight of Lawrence & Memorial Hospital either in the baking sun or freezing cold. I’ll be sure to roll the carcass into the street should I come across it and call for the street sweeper to take away the gutter trash.