No news is… no news
September 7th, 2011
It’s been five long weeks and Slinky is still missing. I’ve been holding out, hoping that my next blog post would be a warm and fuzzy reunion story… but no such luck. It’s been really painful to realize that I’m “getting used to” her not being here along with all of the usual daily routines that come along with that. Slinky was a very active part of our household (as you can see, she even supervised our renovations) and after ten years of companionship it’s very hard to adjust to life without her.
I’ve been truly floored by the kindness of strangers – perhaps it’s because we’ve encountered some pretty unkind strangers in the past, but I’ve been moved to tears by how friendly and helpful people have been. From neighbours asking if Slinky is back and making suggestions about where to put up posters to strangers calling at one in the morning (actually that scared me pretty bad, but the person phoning was so sure he had just seen Slinky that it was easy to forgive him), I’m eternally grateful to one and all. I’ve appreciated all the thoughtful and sympathetic shelter and vet staff I’ve interacted with over the past several weeks, I even made a new friend at the local paper when I called to place an ad.
Friends have also shared some pretty insane (and somewhat comforting) cat-came-back stories… returning after weeks, months, even over a year! Slinky, please don’t take that long, I don’t know if I could bear worrying about you all winter. As it is, every time it storms at night (and it has a lot, lately) I cringe and hope so desperately that you have found yourself a kind, temporary family that is feeding you and letting you indoors at night. I glance out the windows all day, and every black shadow I see makes me stare intently – until I realize it’s a squirrel. Every night I flick on the backyard lights in case you show up at the door, and I hesitate to close the bedroom windows when I go to bed in case I won’t hear you meowing to be let in. I’ve paved the way. Slinky come home.
It’s time to get back on track with this barely-existent blog routine of mine so I’m just going to post a little icon in the sidebar to remind everyone to keep their eyes peeled for a sweet little black cat who loves to trill-talk and snuggle up with her family every night – we miss her so, so much, and we’re still holding onto the hope that she’ll come home. I’m not giving up. Thank-you so much for all the help, advice, anecdotal stories, shared experiences and support. It’s helped a lot.
Slinky Come Home
August 9th, 2011
I’d been happily preparing to write a post about our new place and our new neighbourhood – there is so much to share, and we’re loving it all so much! But I’ve been putting it off due to a furry little friend that has been painfully absent from our daily lives. Slinky the cat has up and gone on an adventure – or at least, that’s what we’re hoping. We’ve lived here for about a month, she’s settled in really well and she’s been gone overnight before, so we’re pretty sure it’s not a case of cat-freaked-out-from-new-surroundings, and more a case of exploratory enthusiasm… but it’s been six days. She’s never not come home for breakfast.
It’s been many breakfasts. And dinners.
I’m worried that she followed a few too many field mice and has found herself somewhere too far from home – there are little wooded areas all over the place and she could be camped out in any one of them. Thankfully Hudson is peppered with little fresh water streams so she won’t have hydration issues; there are houses/shelter within close reach, and hopefully food won’t be too hard to come by, either.
We’ve been out calling up and down our winding streets several times a day, every day – we’ve told neighbours, emailed shelters, phoned vets… my printer is noisily printing up a fresh batch of posters as we speak and we’re off to do some more blitzing. I am anxiously channeling the hopeful and perseverant spirit of Dan and John Spencer, who were happily reunited after almost 2 months. I’ve been reassured by friends who have some pretty crazy cat disappearance stories and I’m hoping that Slinky will follow her stomach and low-snuggle-quota all the way back home again… but every day a cloud settles deeper over this house. We’re all feeling it.
Slinky, it’s so hard to go to bed without you trying to squish up against me and send me to sleep with your purrs, and it’s so sad to wake up without you staring me in the face, patiently waiting for breakfast. I miss your trill-hellos every time you walk into a room and your daily visits to my lap as I work. Please come home, we miss you so much.
Slinky come home
