Prowling Like a Cat for A Cat

Posted on April 13, 2007 in Cats Neighborhood

The stretch of Saddleback Ranch Road running between the school and its intersection with Ridgeline became excruciatingly longer after we posted several “Lost: Black Cat” signs. What usually disappeared with a little pressure on the gas pedal took us five to ten minutes to pass. Even as the clock approached midnight, cars and pickups zoomed by at a rate of about two per minute. In between the engine noise, we listened in the silence for a petite meow. Our baby, Virginia Mew, remained lost.

Yesterday I ran into a man who said he’d seen a strange black cat on Monday morning. Tonight, we combed that area and plastered the stop signs with signs. I whistled for it using a formula we hadn’t used since we moved from northern California. We never did need to call her. The scent of food or the snap of a cat food can lid brought her out of her hiding places. What could we use to bring her forth?

Sites suggested that we hang posters everywhere we could think of, call vets and visit the animal shelter. In the meantime, we were welcome to walk the streets and make noises that might make our neighbors anxious or mirthful.

When I whistled the “here kitty” jingle, someone whislted back at me. “I’m trying to find my cat,” I begged. “Please don’t do that.”

Padding the streets only exhausted our supply of posters and tapes. Virginia Mew remains at large and I despair of ever seeing her again. Someone called on the phone and hung up before I could answer. Was it a wrong number, a prankster, or someone who got my answering machine with news of my kitten and who decided to call back later? In the dark, when it is quiet, I go out to the deck and whistle. Out there she must be listening. Do I do it often enough or loud enough?

And when will my neighbor get home?

[tags]cats, Southern California, Orange County[/tags]

While we climbed the road, I recounted to Lynn another time I’d lost a cat for several days. Brandywhine went missing shortly after I moved across town in Durham. Desperate because she did not appear, I called the Durham Morning Herald and placed a classified ad. Ten minutes after I agree to their “no withdrawal” policy and gave them my credit card information, there was a whining at the back door….

I could not imagine what last desperation measure I would fine myself doing this time to bring Teeny back.