I found Bob alive and well this morning and coaxed him back up to the house.
I’m glad I didn’t tell the kids their cat was dead.
Barring actually having a cat corpse to prove it – I had enough circumstantial evidence to make my case: I found a blood-droplet trail a couple of evenings ago; the cat food had not been touched for a couple of days; and also, I had not seen Bob (Bob Cat) since before finding the blood. Obviously, something had gone terribly wrong.
I guess cats really do have 9 lives.
I felt so bad for Bob, I let him hang out in my house this afternoon. Bob is an outside cat, but it was clear he needed a little down time. It looks like he was happy to have returned:
Cats.
When he adopted us this past Fall, I resisted fully bringing him into my “circle of trust”:
“…with the knowledge you’ve been given, you are now on the inside of what I like to call… ‘the Byrnes family circle of trust.’ I keep nothing from you, you keep nothing from me… and round and round we go.”
– Jack Byrnes (Robert De Niro) Meet the Parents
There were several reasons for my inclusion resistance:
- He is a tad-bit nippy. But only when shooing him out of the house.
- The money (de-worming, “fixing”, food, etc…)
- The responsibility. I barely keep my humans alive.
- The love and subsequent pain of death.
