Monday, January 3, 2011

Lost, but not Forgotten

Last Tuesday, Glenn's male cat, Ace disappeared.  He was there that morning when we left for work and he wasn't there when we returned.  We have scoured our neighborhood, Glenn blanketed the place in Lost Cat posters, we have visited the animal shelter (a visit I would like never to repeat as it was really depressing) and looked everywhere we could think of and more.

It is as if he vanished....poof!

It is interesting how much I miss him.  He did not interact with me much.  He wasn't the type to cuddle, or even come beg to be petted. He rarely interjected himself in my daily life....unless I was carrying something that obstructed my view (like a laundry basket or big box) and then he loved to run in front of me and stop abruptly.  But, when I would come in and see him cuddled on the bed, I would pet him and love on him and he would tolerate it.  He frequently chose a spot on the floor in between the kitchen and living room to sleep (perhaps to keep an eye on what we humans were up to) which never seemed really comfy to me.  I could think of 100 better places, but that is the one he chose more often than not. He LOVED sleeping in my computer bag on the table. Best place ever in his book.  But when I bought him a bed, he shunned it as if it were going to EAT him alive.

Can't you just read his expression: "What do you mean I can't lay here, it is shaped perfectly for me and is up here on the table where I can see everything at once. Whatever lady...stop flashing that at me, I'm not moving."

So how come I miss him so much?  How come every time I hear the cat door flapping in the wind I go running? Why do I look for him every time I walk in the house?

These are the last two pictures taken of him before he disappeared?  Being very cuddly in both!  The cold weather seemed to bring it out in him. 

He and Abby had their share of fighting, but when it came time to sleep, he let her rest on him.

Almost every night he stood on, kneaded and purred loudly with Glenn.  He had the most distinct purr.  And have you ever seen a longer tail on a cat?  Glenn's vet said he got in the tail line twice.

I think I can now understand a tiny fraction of what parents of abducted children must feel.  It feels horrible not to know.  If you KNEW they were dead, you could mourn.  Instead, you hope...against hope. And at every strange sound, you jump, hoping it is them come home again.  The hoping hurts.  It's a little cut every time your hopes are dashed.  And yet....thinking they are alive and ok somewhere feels better too. 

Ace, come home now boy!  We miss you!  I promise I will feed you your favorite canned food every day, even though you only lick the gravy and never eat the vittles.  Just come home.

No comments:

Post a Comment