The Big Cat summoned us for some hard work yesterday. Two days before, I'd seen a cat sleeping in an unusually vulnerable way in our yard. You could have easily mistaken him for the dirt and mulch that he'd settled into. When I noticed him next to the path, I sat down and spoke softly to him. He hissed, and scrambled away. He was in bad shape -- seemed to have arthritic legs, maybe. I kept an eye out for him.
Yesterday I saw him again. He was thin, with a stern face whose fluff stuck out at the cheeks. He hissed. I thought he had a raw drumstick with him. Then I realized it was his paw.
I went inside and got some food, heated it up and brought it to him. He backed away, but within a few minutes most of it was gone.
I could describe our actions in detail, but they don't really matter. The kitty is now gone. He had chosen our yard as his place to leave the world. Many people helped us yesterday with advice and a humane trap. Perhaps if we'd seen the kitty ten days earlier he might have had a chance, but by the time we saw him he was beyond saving.
Our cat guru held a seminar on grieving yesterday. Had I only known. It was a day too soon.
As we always say at times like this, love to all kitties everywhere.
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