If you love something
The last couple of days have been a dark cloud for me. I got Tigger, chocolate Siamese with beautiful blue eyes, from the Animal Shelter during the summer of 2004. Tigger evacuated with me from Katrina and other storms. He's one of the sweetest cats you could imagine. He likes people. Nobody is a stranger to him. He even took to Penny, our new dog (yet at the same time, Tigger reminded Penny that HE was alpha, not the dog).
Greg told me to blog about it, because it would be therapeutic. Monday night, the night before Mardi Gras, Greg was going in and out of the house grilling food. It was late and was dark outside and Tigger snuck out without us realizing it.. until the next morning.
We printed pictures of Tigger with our cell phone and Greg talked to neighbors. There's a group of ladies on our street who keep an eye out for strays and we gave them pictures. I cried so much the last couple of days.
We went to the animal shelter to see if anyone brought him there and filled out a missing animal report.
I left food out for Tigger, though some people said I shouldn't so that Tigger would be hungry and come home, but I couldn't not leave food out for him.
Greg walked the streets even at 2:30am (cats are nocturnal) looking for Tigger. We did everything that we could and still... no sign of him.
Every night, every time during the day even, as I walked by the patio door, I would look out or turn on the light and look into the night. It was the way Tigger got out and I kept returning to that door, leaving the blinds open.
Today... I wasn't going to look, trying to come to terms that Tigger wouldn't be home. I turned on the light and THERE HE WAS! On the patio table eating the food I left out!
I called out, "Greg! Greg! Greg! Tigger is here! Come help!" I was so afraid when I opened the patio doors that Tigger would take off. But when I opened the doors, Tigger ran INSIDE!
Tigger went straight to where we normally keep his food and scarfed down a can of cat food, drank a bunch of water and finally purred for us when we brushed him. He looks nervous, has lost weight and his nails are ripped up. Otherwise, though, he's home and he's safe.
And tomorrow, we're getting a collar and tag and I'm going to get a chip put on him.
Comments
A few years ago, I couldn't find my Carmen, a little Blue Russian that I had gotten from a shelter. After doing all the things you mentioned we found her hiding in the closet in one of our bedrooms. Painters in the house had her spooked and she had been hiding for a couple of days.
Still the pain of not knowing where a beloved pet is, is horrible.