Even Harder

Even harder than writing the missing kitty poster is going around the neighborhood putting it up.

Everyone knows there is a fox in the area. A few parents stopped as we were taping signs to telephone poles.

Oh, sorry. Lost kitty? Oh. so sorry. We'll look around, okay?

To me they look pained, as I looked pained, knowing without saying anything in front of Ben that the cat is most likely dead.

Their sincere attempts to cheer him up breaks my heart.

And makes me love my neighborhood even more.

I tried not to cry outside the Dunkin Donuts where we posted a sign. A few people walk by and respond with small sounds of condolences, a 'oooh, poor kitty' and 'good luck finding her.'

When we got home, Ben stood on the back porch and called her again.

I went out and stood with him while he looked over the yard for any signs of movement.

She's probably not coming home, I said.

Is she dead? He quickly asked.

I think so. We've done all we can. If she could get home, she would be here. She loved you guys so much.

Yeah.

We both stood and looked. I went inside and he eventually followed.

Twenty minutes later, he went back out on the porch to call her again.

Even harder still.