Worst day of my life.
He's gone. I don't know where - all I know is that he's gone. We let him out at lunchtime yesterday and we haven't seen hide nor hair of him since.
I know cats go walkabout. I know some cats go off for days and then come back as if nothing has happened. And that would be a comfort if I didn't know Rufus so well. He's never been out for more than an hour or two without wanting to come back for a snack or a cuddle. He loves his family and craves human attention so much I often wonder if he should have been born a little dog instead of a little cat.
We've informed every authority there is to inform. We've put posters up. I've spent hours walking all over the neighbourhood putting flyers through every letterbox. My hands are raw from pushing slips through letterboxes. I nearly got my hand bitten off by some cunt's mad dog waiting by the letterbox on the other side of the door. We've had four phone calls - none have been someone with our little boy. Nobody has found him.
I would give everything I have to see his little hungry face appear in the window. Everything. I would give anything to know that's he's safe and warm, anything to not have to worry anymore about him being cold, or hungry, or frightened, or hurt, or dead.
The night before he disappeared he spent hours cuddling me (he puts his arms around your neck and squeezes you) because I was upset about various things and crying a lot. He stayed with me all night, even cuddling in bed with me which he's usually too hyper to do. He's the sweetest, most affectionate, most loving little cat I've ever known. And now I don't even know if I'll ever see him again.
Please, Rufus, come home safe. Come home safe and I'll never be unhappy about anything again.
Please.
He's gone. I don't know where - all I know is that he's gone. We let him out at lunchtime yesterday and we haven't seen hide nor hair of him since.
I know cats go walkabout. I know some cats go off for days and then come back as if nothing has happened. And that would be a comfort if I didn't know Rufus so well. He's never been out for more than an hour or two without wanting to come back for a snack or a cuddle. He loves his family and craves human attention so much I often wonder if he should have been born a little dog instead of a little cat.
We've informed every authority there is to inform. We've put posters up. I've spent hours walking all over the neighbourhood putting flyers through every letterbox. My hands are raw from pushing slips through letterboxes. I nearly got my hand bitten off by some cunt's mad dog waiting by the letterbox on the other side of the door. We've had four phone calls - none have been someone with our little boy. Nobody has found him.
I would give everything I have to see his little hungry face appear in the window. Everything. I would give anything to know that's he's safe and warm, anything to not have to worry anymore about him being cold, or hungry, or frightened, or hurt, or dead.
The night before he disappeared he spent hours cuddling me (he puts his arms around your neck and squeezes you) because I was upset about various things and crying a lot. He stayed with me all night, even cuddling in bed with me which he's usually too hyper to do. He's the sweetest, most affectionate, most loving little cat I've ever known. And now I don't even know if I'll ever see him again.
Please, Rufus, come home safe. Come home safe and I'll never be unhappy about anything again.
Please.
VIEW 20 of 20 COMMENTS
medy:
Hey! Thanks for helping me out with the sindarin translation in the lotr group. I like it better. may I ask how you work it out?
knives2meatyou:
Any word yet? I keep hoping for the best. I remember once my cat (not the Wegie, an older cat) was missing for a few days and it turned out he had wandered into someone's garage and was locked in until they got home. He ran back, hungry as hell (as one might imagine). Maybe that's what happened with Rufus. I hope so.