Mistaken Identity

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.

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Grief Revisited

niles-arranging-the-props

Curious Niles

Today I got an email from someone on Facebook where I had posted an ad about my beloved orange tabby, Niles.  Niles slipped out of the house early one morning when my son, Chris, opened the sun room door to take out his dog.  By the time I discovered he was gone, six hours had passed.  We posted flyers and made signs.  I posted ads online and in local papers.  Put a litter box, food and his favorite blanket outside.  I changed the food every day.  I even left the sun room door open all night for five nights so he could get in if we were sleeping.  Every time I opened the door to let Jenny, my dog, out, I called his name.  I felt trapped in my wheelchair, unable to go out and look for him, dependent on others.  I hired someone to make the signs and it took her two weeks!  My stomach was in knots.  I even hired a dog finder who was scheduled to come and search for him, but we found him (we thought), bloated, by the side of the road not far from where we live the day before she was due to arrive.  We had him cremated. That was two and a half months ago.

Today I talked with someone who found an orange tabby about two miles from our house. She said he had cuts on his ears and was very dirty.  And he is very friendly, just like Niles. I sent her pictures of Niles.  She said she believes he looks like the cat she found.  She is willing to show him to us if we can come and look.  Karen, my sweet niece who is here from Arizona, said she would work it in (she is with her sister, Susie, who is in the latest stages of cancer).  Chris works all day but said he would go if Karen was unable to. He warns me not to get my hopes up. I know, but …..

Did we make a mistake when we assumed the cat we found was Niles?  I so want this one to be him.  This call has brought back all the old grief and it’s like Niles just now disappeared.  If I was still driving, I’d have been over there by now.  It’s so frustrating,  having to give in to old age and ailments.  Hard to stay positive.