Pets

I lived with some friends in a semi rural neighborhood, just outside of town. I had a 6 month old orange tabby that I worried about constantly because my friends started letting him outdoors, although I wanted him to stay inside. He had been a motherless feral that another friend gave to me because she already had too many cats to keep him.

He bonded with me right away. But at Christmas, he was terrified by all the company we had and the noise. He slipped out the door when someone arrived and I did not see him for days. I was worried sick. Then, one morning around 6 am, I heard a faint meow and rushed to the door. He came inside and ran right to his dish like he'd never been gone.

Soon afterward, we had one of our blustery western NY snowstorms. He was used to going out at night and returning in the morning. He slipped out on us in the evening, before the storm hit. I barely slept that night, listening to the howling wind. I was up and outdoors in the snow drifts to search for him by 5 am. When I called him, he answered. He had found a crawl space below our storage unit and had weathered the storm there. The drifts were too high for him to walk through so I waded through the snow to get him. He squirmed loose and insisted on hopping behind me in my footprints, playing with the snow all the way. He was enjoying it!

I never stopped worrying about him until I moved into town and could keep him indoors.

The cat before him was a talented escape artist and got loose a few times. On one of those times he apparently picked up feline HIV from contact with another cat. He was 14 before he got so sick that he had to be put down.

My childhood gray and black tabby contracted distemper and had to be put them.

So I understand anxiety about losing a furry friend. It's why I'm hyper protective of Ember. Cats can be vulnerable, but they can also be stronger than we realize sometimes. We do what we can.