The prodigal returned

The prodigal resting up after his return

Regarding the blog friend who had lost one of her beloved kittehs.  When he turned up missing, they had made up flyers with his picture and their pertinents and posted them all over town.  He had been missing for three days when yesterday afternoon, a lady had called saying she had found a dead cat who looked like the cat pictured on the flyer and had taken his body to the vet.  By then the vet was closed, and they would have to wait until Monday to claim his poor little remains.  They were heartbroken.  Then, early this morning, just as the house was stirring, who but who should come waltzing in through the cat flap loudly announcing his return after having been missing for three days.  Kill the fatted tin of cat food; the prodigal has returned!

My sweet Shadow

My sweet Shadow
21 March, 1997 to 22 October, 2004

I know a little about what they went through.  When I lived in the apartment I lived in before I moved here, I had to have a second phone line installed so I could work from home.  The phone guy was in and out and in and out.  After he left, I called to my cats Jett and Shadow (They were my first two).  Here came Jett, but no Shadow.  With a sinking feeling, I tore the house up looking for her.  No Shadow.

I became convinced that her curiosity had caused her to wander out the door when nobody was looking, but she had never been outside before in her life except in a cat carrier.  There were two large, busy streets to the south and east of where I lived. There were big dogs in the neighborhood.  I was frantic, wandering up and down the neighborhood shaking the bag of treats and calling her name, returning to my apartment periodically in case she had kept her head and tracked herself back to her home.  I did this for hours to no avail.  I imagined her huddled up hiding somewhere too terrified to come when she heard me calling.
Sister Shadow on the Winter QuiltFinally, I had to go back in and get to work — as if I could keep my mind on it with my little girl lost.  I came in the front door, got my computer booted up, and sat down to try to work.  After about 10 minutes, I got up to get a drink from the kitchen, and as I walked into the living room, guess who emerged from underneath the ottoman, where she’d been all the time!  The ottoman’s legs were less than 3 inches long.  I hadn’t even looked there, thinking the space was too small for her to get underneath it.   I was never so glad to be mistaken in my life!
Sadly, I lost her to osteosarcoma one terrible Friday in 2004.  She was only 7 years old.