Where Have You Gone?

Dear Madison,

It's been nine months since I last saw you. This morning, I found a photo of you I'd forgotten I shot. It makes me sad. We had one year together before you disappeared. I still wonder what happened to you; if you're all right, just someplace else, or if your luck ran out.

I know the statistics say feral cats only live a few years on their own. I can see why, too. How could you live without someone there to feed you each day? It's a fallacy that cats eat up all the songbirds. They really don't do well on their own. Sure, they can hunt, but odds are, they won't get much to eat without humans around to help them out.

I see your Mother, Bronte, a few days a week, when my timing to bring down food meets her timing to need something to eat. She's joined by your old pal, Buddy, who still looks ragged and awful, but who seems to keep on surviving. There's also a new feral who's so skittish he literally hung from the rafters this morning, when he couldn't get out of the screened room, just as I entered it. I was calm as can be, but boy did he freak out!

Then there's you. The only one of the ferals who would let me pet her. I really liked that. I hoped that if I kept at it, sooner or later you'd learn to trust people enough so I could help get you find a family of your own. I knew you could do it and maybe you found your family on your own? I really hope so, though I torture myself with images of what may have happened to you.

Dear Madison, I know I'll never see you again. Wherever you ended up and whatever happened to you, I'll never know. I miss you and your cute little face. I love you and I know part of me will always be waiting for you, just in case you come back home.