I am not dealing very well with his disappearance.
I make no claims to clairvoyance--indeed wouldn't want that dubious gift--but I admit that without good reason, I felt strongly from the first moment when I called him to 'tea time'--and he didn't appear, that I wouldn't see my dear boy again.
Still, hope dies hard.
I would have him back--battered, dirty, hungry, maybe even missing an ear, an eye, a leg--if he could be returned to me I would take care of him.
How could I guess as he lay stretched beside me in the half light of early morning, my fingers lightly stroking his long fur, feeling him purr beneath my hand--how could I suspect it would be the last time I would touch him or know his presence?
I have hoped that I could write a sequel in which Nellie reappeared, came home again.
I have thus far been thwarted in even knowing with surety what carried him away without a trace.
I have walked the edges of the brook, nearly dry in its rocky bed; I have tramped along the roadside, up and down the lane, ventured up the steep ridge track, gone into the woods beyond the stable--hoping for some sign that would indicate his end, gruesome though it would surely be.
I have quartered the big pasture, eyes straining for a tuft of fur--any trace.
There is to be no happy ending, apparently no discovery that will help to draw a line under Nellie's disappearance.
I am bereft--but I feel enfolded by the kindness of your words left on my page, the letters which have arrived at my inbox.
Those of us who love animals have a bond of compassion, of shared sorrow when there is a loss.
Thank you for once again being with me in a sad time.
I wish there was a happy ending to this Sharon. I so wish it had been one of the barn cats, who aren't so part of you. I wish you knew what had happened and had closure. There's an old saying though, if wishes were horses, beggars would ride. I do hope you get to the facts behind his loss though, just so you could draw a line under it and move on. You are very much in my thoughts, as ever.
ReplyDeleteJennie; Your letters have been a comfort. I would feel badly for the loss of any animal in my care, but I could have parted less painfully with several of the barn cats.
DeleteOh dear Sharon ~ My heart aches for you with the loss of Nellie.
ReplyDeleteLove, hugs and prayers ~ FlowerLady
Rainey; We just do hurt for others in these circumstances. I know that "Tork" must be a gentle companion to your busy days.
DeleteI couldn't comment on the last post as I too was so upset for you.
ReplyDeleteDon't give up hope, my friend who takes in cats had one appear 6 months after disappearing and another lady who lives around the corner had hers return after several weeks. But all the same I feel for you so deeply as I know how my heart would ache if any of mine were lost.
Hugs to you and fingers crossed.
Briony
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Briony; I know that feeling! I, too, have read through tear-blurred eyes when my blog friends report the loss of a pet.
DeleteWe always hope for a happy ending even when we know it's not possible. Still they live on in our hearts and dreams.
ReplyDeleteJanet; these creatures do 'live on' in a sense. Paging through old photo albums always stirs memories of the pets who have been with us through the years.
DeleteThe "not knowing" must be agony. Sending you love and best wishes.
ReplyDeleteKath; It seems I can't quit searching for clues! I vacuumed around the cat door which leads downstairs to the laundry area--felt that I was surely removing a last trace of Nellie's fur.
DeleteI hope that you may still have a happy ending or at least closure. As with Briony' s friend I had one of my cats return after several months. I just opened the door one morning and there she was thin and bedraggled but alive.. To this day I have no idea where she'd been.
ReplyDeleteRowan; I have had that 'happy ending' only once--I counted up the cats who have gone missing over the decades--I think nine--and only one came back. The other disappearances have remained unsolved mysteries.
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