I'm not a big cat person. (Meaning: cats are ok but I don't go all gaga over them. Not Meaning: I don't have a big tail and use a big litter box.)
Kimmie is one of our cats. And when I say "ours" I mean the rest of the family's. I tolerate her. She hunts down rats, I read books; I don't bother her, she doesn't bother me.
But the house just isn't the same since Kimmie went MIA.
She came in one night, not looking great, seemed a bit depressed and lonely; bad night out with the hubby? too much beer and chips? -- then she crept out the next morning and we haven't seen her since.
It was only a couple of days ago, but still.
The house seems lonely.
(Not to ME you understand. The family.)
I've already buried one cat recently. Casper. Now the friendly ghost in the backyard. He was an old cat. Skinny. Off white. Had some kind of brain snafu. Went blind. Wandered around the house bumping into walls and such. Sad little thing. Died peacefully in his sleep. (Or hers, I can't remember.) Buried him/her the next day and even put a little fence around his/her grave.
(Thought the family might like that.)
But at least he/she was at home, surrounded by the people who loved him/her.
Kimmie just wandered off to die in somebody else's yard (we suppose), or out in the woods. I mean, we fed her. Took care of her. The least she could've done was have the decency to let us TRY and help her. Not just go off on her own and leave us wondering where she was, if she had a decent place to sleep, food to eat.
(And Lord help us if she went and died under somebody's house. That'll sure cause a stink.)
I guess her disappearance will remain a mystery for all time.
I'm so glad I'm not a cat person.