Another call. Hope again. The other cat was not Niles. This one wasn’t either. The other cat was larger than Niles and not neutered. Today, the cat was neutered, but the wrong color.
A week or so ago I saw a cat taking refuge under a pine tree in my front yard. I called animal control but was informed they don’t pick up cats. Unable to go out and get the cat, I was left frustrated and fearful for its safety. It was cold and I live not far from a busy street. The cat I learned about today was the same color as the cat I saw last week. I hope it is the same one. I’ve thought about it so much and hoped someone took it in out of the cold. I wish someone had seen poor Niles and taken him in.
It’s so weird, getting a call about Niles three months after he drifted away. And even though we found one close to home and had him cremated, I still hoped we’d made a mistake and Niles is still alive.
I remember when, 40 years age, someone lost control of her car and veered into my yard, hitting and killing my dog. Until we could have her cremated, we wrapped her in her favorite blanket and placed her in a box in the garage. That night I couldn’t rest until Forrest went out and unwrapped her to see if she was really dead. I could hear her footsteps behind me as I climbed the stairs to the bedroom.
Funny, how reason goes out the window when it comes to love and grief.