Missing Kitty

The cat is missing.

She’s an outdoor cat. I told the boys from the beginning that letting a cat go outdoors meant taking a risk. Her howling and constant running for the door made it an easy choice.

She loves being outside. My last cat was an indoor cat, lived 18 years and was mean. She never tried to go outdoors, rather seemed happy being mean and hissing at anyone and everyone.

Sophia is not mean. Cocky, she takes down squirrels larger than her. I’m pretty sure she’s just out on the town and will be back but the boys are asking every five minutes.

Where’s Sophia?

When is she coming home?

Is she dead?

Jake drew a poster for her and put it on the post out front.

The neighbor called. Is Sophia okay? We love that cat.

I hope so. I don’t know. We have a fox living in the neighborhood but the fox isn’t much bigger than her and with her track record, I think I’d see her dragging it home first.

I feel like a terrible mother. I shouldn’t have let the cat out. I shouldn’t have let the kids decide to have her an outdoor cat- they were too young to know. I drove around earlier looking for road kill and found none.

I’ve had enough death and loss. No more.

She’ll come strolling in at about 5pm, when I’m beside myself, eat half a bowl of food and crash in the chair in my office.

I hope.

In the meantime, I have to come up with some way to talk about missing doesn’t necessarily mean dead. She was a happier cat going outside. Try not to worry.

While I worry.

And be grateful we have a dog that doesn’t need a fence because she’s always about three inches from my back heel.