Where is Miss Kitty?

My cat has not been home. She always comes home late at night, or at least early in the morning when my mother wakes up. Last night I called her to come in until about 1:30am, but there was no response from the night. This morning, my mother asked about her, because Miss Kitty had not been on the porch, as per her usual schedule. I fear the worst, of course, and living in the country, she could be anywhere. We don't live near any busy roads, which is a relief. I did take a quick recon on some of the roads leading out of the small town where I live, and thankfully, no gruesome remains.

She sticks close to the house as a rule. She can find plenty of prowling and stalking without ranging far and wide, but, oh dear, I am so worried.

She appeared on our backstep Christmas Eve, 2001. I was 2 weeks sober and feeling pretty shaky. I had gone outside to smoke a cigarette in the 20* night. As I was sitting on the stoop I heard a pitiful little cry from the woodshed, about 25 feet away. I used the age-old cat call and this little calico thing bounded out of the darkness. She immediately wrapped herself around my ankles, meowing and purring. To make a long story short, she adopted us and has been the sweetest cat we have ever known. She is loving and kind, playful and gentle, and one of the best mousers I've ever seen. She loves to sleep with me and takes naps when she can work them into her busy schedule. My niece, Kaolin, named her 'Miss Kitty', and the name stuck. I have a more elaborate name for her, but that's our secret.

Miss Kitty was my mothers only companion while I served my time in jail. I give her all the credit for perhaps even saving my mothers sanity during that dark time. She always seems to know when those around her need comfort or a little cheering up. She is a loving and fastidious pet who is currently greatly missed and worried over. My mother doesn't know what to do.

Miss Kitty is an adult cat. She is a fast runner, very smart, and has very sharp, long claws. She can take care of herself in situations with other fourlegged or flying creatures. I have to believe that. For the moment I also have to believe that I will leave here in a few minutes and begin my day. When I return she will be home, exhausted from her great adventure and napping in one of many choice spots she knows. On seeing me she will stretch, give her usual "Blurp", yawn, and present the top of her head for a scratch. This is the way it has always been, and for the moment, I can't think in any other terms.

Oh, Miss Kitty, won't you please come home?

Johnnyboy