Kittyless

We used to have 2 kitties. Ossie, on the left, was a runner, a hunter, a wanderer who would stay with anyone who opened their door. We lost her several times before we truly lost her. We would put up the missing posters and a neighbor would call and tell us how charming and loving she was, or she would just show up, dirty and hungry with no explanations. We could never keep her breakaway collar on her. But in the days following coyote sightings in the neighborhood, we lost her for good two years ago. Not knowing the particulars makes it both easier and harder sometimes. Although I fear she became part of the food chain herself, I can pretend that she found a home she preferred to ours and lives there still.

Noel always stayed closer to home, never leaving the yard, and rarely leaving the perimeter of the house. She loved to lounge in the sun, waiting for the chance to chase a chipmunk. She never caught one, but brought us countless voles and mice.

Her favorite hideout was under the porch, which is where I found her for the first time 6 years ago, just before Christmas. She would often hide under there, especially after a storm, sometimes spending the night, but always came out when called in the morning if she wasn't waiting by the door for a belly rub.

Her favorite hangout was on the barbeque, where the dog couldn't torment her. She could see into the kitchen window and watch for me as I got my morning coffee.

I took this picture the last day I saw her, waiting for my best friend and her family to arrive from Canada for her first visit here in a decade. We had a great night, a wonderful barbeque, and the last time I saw kitty, she got a scolding for trying to sample the beer can chicken and ribs. She wouldn't come when I called for her at dusk, which happened often, and infuriated and worried me to no end. I called for her again at midnight, but she rarely came out of hiding after dark. She was a cautious kitty.

I slept with the windows open because the night was cool and during one of my fitful hot flash fueled wakings I heard a shriek I had never heard before. I listened for more, but there was nothing. I thought perhaps the raccoons were fighting over the bird food. But in the morning, no kitty. Four days now and no kitty and I think the shriek I heard was Noel's last gasp as she became part of the food chain. Coyote, fox or owl? I don't get to know. My daughter wants me to put up the missing kitty signs, but she was microchipped, she never left the yard and I think I know now what I heard, and the idea of posting a futile plea and watching it fade in the sun makes me cry. She was ours for 6 years, which my husband says was a good run for a stray cat. We loved her well while she was here and she returned the favor. I still listen for her at night and look for her every morning, but I know in my heart she is gone.

We are kittyless.

The highlight of my summer, the visit from my oldest friend, was also the low point of my summer, as I've lost my best kitty yet. Life is like this sometimes. You wait for something good, and it comes with something bad.

The only question now is how long to wait to put away the food bowls, the kitty toys, the litter box. And I hope I am done rescuing stray cats who won't stay inside, where it is safe.