Sorrows of the Feline Kind

For those who don't really know, I don't like cats. They're snobby and think they own you... just not right for something that is fairly dependent on the people they seem to somewhat loathe. Oh, and I'm allergic. (As if our family needs any more allergies!)



Ergo, we adopted a cat last fall. He was "free". And, as all "free" animals end up, he cost us more money than I'd like to mention. Smokey was part of an abandoned litter that a very nice lady syringe-fed until they were old enough to be given away. As I am sort of psycho about having pets NOT live in my house (save fish and other cage-only animals), we got a very nice "home" for him outside with lots of toys and special dishes, etc. My daughters have been so happy with their pet - taking great care of him and loving him. It has been one of the best things we could do for our kids!



Having been raised by people, Smokey is an incredibly loving, grateful cat. He plays ball with the kids, lets them carry him around, and even tolerated Ben picking him up by his tail once or twice. ("Ben, put him DOWN!" *thump*) Basically, a dog-like cat.

He got in a cat fight a while back and had to be put on antibiotics. We put him in the garage to heal up. His favorite place to perch was on a very high shelf right next to the door that leads to the house. Imagine my surprise and I walk out that door and notice something staring at me from way up there! He had since healed up and was doing great outdoors again.

About three mornings ago, we didn't see him. We put his food out like usual and it has been sitting there since. Now, let's get into the trauma of it all... The first thing I ought to mention is that the kids don't want to play out in the back yard. They think it's too lonely without the cat, who usually hid when they were out there... or, at least when Ben was there...

Wendi makes us go on walks each day calling for Smokey. She carries a fairly large basket the whole time, too - "knowing" that he will see it and know it is for him and jump in so she can carry him home.

Hailie won't let me put his house in the garage. "Mom, he needs to come back and he won't know it's our house if his house isn't out there."

We have checked with our neighbors and animal control and the animal shelters. I'm thinking he's probably dead somewhere (and I'm scared that on one of our walks, we'll find him squished in a road and I'll have to SHOW my kids death - literally), but we can't tell the kids he's dead because then he will show up again. Here's what I think that conversation will go like:

Wendi: Mom! Smokey is out back! He's not dead!
Me: What? Oh, that's great! Is he okay?
Hailie: He's better than okay, he's resurrected!

You see the dilemma here? (Do you know how much deeper of a doctrinal conversation that will be than I want to have with a five-year-old?) We just want to know that he's run away forever or that he's dead or something so that the twins will have some closure!



Alas, no closure to be found.

This is my little farewell to the only cat I've ever liked. We love you, Smokey!

(By the by, the first picture is of Smokey as a little kitten and the second picture is of Wendi holding Smokey with Smokey's house in the background. Those two were taken on Wendi's "Kid Tough Digital Camera", which the girls begged to have for a full year before I finally bought each of them one for this last birthday - it was ALL they got for their birthday from Brent and me, but it was one of the best toys we've ever bought them. I really enjoy seeing the world the way they do (not as many butts involved as I had thought). And, the pictures aren't quite as bad as I'd imagined. Obviously not as good as a "grown up" camera, but not that bad!)