I knew what I signed up for when I adopted them. I knew I would have to love them from a far. But, I thought I lived in an area where they were safe. A place where they didn’t want to wonder too far. They have everything here; shelter, fresh water, fresh food, a large field next door, a large yard to call their own, and most recently, a big deck for them to lounge around on and be lazy. Unfortunately, all of it wasn’t enough for my littlest girl and I couldn’t keep her safe.
Cloe was gone for a few days before I started to worry. She was feral after all. If I worried every time they didn’t come when dinner was served, I’d never sleep. After the fourth day, I began to alert people to her absence. I reached out to our local animal control officer, an organization that helps reunite lost cats with their families and anyone else that would listen. I posted flyers, went door to door looking for my baby and, of course, I began crying.
My girl used to spend a lot of time with a neighbor cat. She would stay with him and hang out in his shed. The owner of this cat was happy to have Cloe spend time at his house. He even made a cat haven out of his shed for his cat and his new found buddy.
I stopped by this neighbor’s house to ask if he had seen Cloe. That’s when he gave me the bad news. She was hit by a car. She had a large gash in her head. My sweet neighbor took her tiny body and buried her in the backyard. Instead of calling animal control, which would have just disposed of her body, he took my little girl and gave her respect and love in the end.
But now it’s hard to deal with the after. Her father and sister still need to be cared for. It’s hard to feed them. My mind goes to little Cloe fighting her sister for a bowl of food. Even though I always put enough for both. It’s hard to go to the shed. She would always jump up on the shelf and say hello. I just…miss her terribly.
I’m sure I don’t want to write about it anymore.