Saturday, October 4, 2014
Last night/early morning, I and my 2 indoor kitties were jarred awake by a bloodcurdling cat shriek coming from outdoors, near us. If I were 30 or 40 years younger, I'd have gotten up, gotten dressed, and gone out to check. But the conditions of aging and a more logical understanding of dangers in darkness kept me right where I was. I dreaded what I might find this morning. Would O.K. be on my porch, bloody and frightened? Or out in the yard, in worse condition than I'd like to imagine? But when I went downstairs to feed and water him, he was nowhere to be found. He is usually meowing away on my little porch each morning, eager for his crunchy breakfast. I did a brief check of the area, no kitty. This is the worst part of caring for a kitty that belongs to the outdoors, not to me...the times of not knowing and trying not to speculate.