My cat has disappeared, and I’m afraid he won’t be coming back. He was the sweetest living creature I have ever known, and I am convinced he has gone away to die, because he couldn’t bear to hurt us by doing it here at home. He has been sick for a few weeks, and I was desperately trying to save up enough money to take him to the vet, but now he’s been missing for 3 days, so I’m feeling that I missed my chance.

For the past 2 weeks, he has remained in his new favorite spot in the basement, where it is nice and cool. Every night before bed, I would check in on him, and he would look up at me with his innocent little eyes and assure me that he was still here and doing alright. I forgot to check on him 2 nights ago, and fell asleep without a second thought. Last night, I went for my usual check-in, and he wasn’t there. I was immediately concerned, since I hadn’t seen him around, and assumed he was in his spot. Heath and I tore the house apart looking for him, and have found no evidence of him. I have no idea how or when he got out, but I am convinced he is no longer in the house. I am certain that we have checked every space in the house where a cat of his size could possibly hide (he was the Shaquille O’Neil of cats). And yet, I am completely in denial. I continue to check the same places over and over, hoping that by some miracle, he will be in one of them eventually.

This morning, I asked Reed if he had seen him, since he sometimes has a knack for finding Whit’s unusual hiding spots. Reed went on a similar quest to find his beloved pet, with whom he has been best buddies since birth (Reed’s, not Whit’s. The cat is older than Reed is.). After his search proved as fruitless as mine had the night before, I sat him down and explained that Whit had likely run away, and probably wouldn’t be coming back. He is also in denial, constantly suggesting new places he hadn’t looked yet, but none of them were spots I hadn’t already checked myself.

I feel like the lowest form of human today. I was entrusted with the care of a kind, caring, defenseless creature, and I let him suffer. It was not by choice, but that doesn’t make me feel any better right now. I let him down, and even in the face of this, he still wanted nothing more than to save me the heartache of watching him die. I want nothing more right now than to hold him and cuddle him and sob into his big furry head, but instead I sit here sobbing to myself, wondering what has become of my little friend. I’m too sad to care that I lost out on 2 jobs yesterday that I really wanted. Jobs that I was quite upset about until I discovered that Whit is missing. Now I’m glad that I don’t have to go off to work and put on a brave face today.

If you see a lovable black-and-white, cow-spotted cat that honestly believes himself to be a dog, please let me know. I’d like him back now, thank you very much.


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