Losing Grayson…

My daughter has a friend who has three pooches and a dog-enduring cat that reminds her of our lovely white cat named Moby who lived for two short years and is still missed.

Moby loved his food, enjoyed company, drank water from my vases and hi-jacked our ankles from underneath the dining room table at night.

But enough of Moby, back to Grayson, an ample Tabby, contented, canine-tolerant and adorable…


…but most importantly an Indoor Kitty.

That is until my daughter spent Easter and inadvertently left the front door ajar, inviting Grayson’s irresistible curiosity  out of its box to take flight.

She called me frantically,

“I’ve lost Grayson.  Can cats find their way home?”

“Of course they can,” I said remembering The Incredible Journey where a cat and two dogs trekked across the Canadian countryside to return to the house they loved,


a Siamese cat though, not a Tabby…

While I remained optimistic they took to the car and trawled the neighborhood for two days, put up signs and followed false leads.  He had no collar or chip and they searched fields and roadsides for evidence of possible demise.

Feeling thoroughly wretched my daughter went back to work and blamed herself for being so careless,

“He loves to look outside and watch the world go by,” she told me, “but the blinds in the house have been shut so he missed gazing out at the garden and growling at the fluttering birds.  I should have known he’d seize the first opportunity to dart outside at the view he’s been missing.”

And dart he did!

Last night she texted me to say Grayson had been found dead at the side of the road after scarcely three days.  Un-smiley faces splattered the iPhone screen in sorrow and my heart dropped as she started second guessing herself,

“I feel so responsible!” she thumbed, “if only I’d shut the front door…”

“Saying, ‘if only I’d’, isn’t going to bring him back,” I re-texted, “so don’t be too hard on yourself.  I just feel sorry his new found freedom was short lived…. :(”

Then the Easter thing happened!

I got a phone call early this morning,

“Grayson came home last night!”


“I told you he could find his way, even from the dead!”

“Yes, he just showed up at the back door!  She’s taking him to the vet to get a chip, buying him a collar with I.D. tags and a bell!”

Poor Grayson, no more sneaking up on the dogs!

“And you are going to be a more responsible house guest in future,” I said, “and make sure you close the front door when you pop outside!”

She laughed and we hung up with Alleluias ringing in our ears.


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