We have two cats: Bijou and Catcher. They were adopted from a local shelter as a set.
At the time she was found, Bijou was only a year old but she’s already had a litter in the wild. After she was rescued and spayed she almost died from infection, so her babies were taken away while she recovered and eventually adopted out.
Eventually she was adopted out, but only for less than a week. The owners brought her back because she would pace the halls all night, crying out for her babies. Poor little mama, she missed her babies something fierce, so when a motherless litter was brought to the shelter, Bijou stepped in as foster mom.
She had a special bond with one of the babies, and when we chose to adopt her, we were told that they had to go together. It worked out perfectly; Chris got his cute, snuggly kitten (Catcher) and I got to save an older cat from life in the shelter (Bijou).
We’ve had them now for, gosh, 12 years? Catcher was like my first baby. I used to put him inside a zipped up sweatshirt and walk around the house, and at night we would snuggle under the covers together, like he was my teddy bear. Bijou has always been a little kooky, but I love her just the same. She has a sweet mama heart, and I love her for that.
Since Emmett has been born, I am ashamed to say that the kitties have taken the back seat. If I’m honest, it’s actually more like they’ve been kicked to the trunk. We still love them, but after a long day at work, coming home to a 2 year old who alternates between jumping off of furniture and whining, we just don’t have room for a needy cat who wanders the halls like a wailing ghost.
Last night it was really hot, like 80+ degrees INSIDE. (And we don’t have AC, not many people do in our little beach town since it’s only needed a few weeks out of the year.) In an effort to cool down the house, we opened all the doors and put the cats in our bedroom…but somehow, over the course of the night, Bijou got out.
We looked high and low, but there was no sight of her. I sat on the porch until after midnight, and finally I saw her crawl out from underneath a parked car and run across the street. She scurried up the neighbors driveway, and we haven’t seen her since. This side of the street backs up to a gigantic hill of trees, where coyotes have been known to live.
This morning, as soon as it was past a decent hour, we went to the neighbors house and knocked on their door. We asked them to keep an eye out for a black cat with a clipped ear and then poked around, but no sight of her.
We walked up and down the street, calling her name. I printed out “Lost Cat!” signs and taped them up on nearby telephone poles. Emmett helped me, and it warmed my heart to have him with me, searching for his furbuddy.
I’m hoping that tonight, when the streets quiet down, that she will reappear under the cover of night and come home to us. I’ll be waiting for her on our porch, with her favorite bed and a bowl of food.