23 April 2012 @ 10:45 pm
I seem to have forgotten to give a pet update back when it happened. Of course, I spent a week really really hoping it DIDN'T happen, so I can be slightly forgiven.

An unknown amount of time ago (roughly March 30th according to my Facebook), Gypsy and Pi decided to stay out for the night, which was the first time in awhile. I woke in the middle of the night to yowling. Not horny cat yowling (while Gyppers and Pi are fixed, we get some strays), or Pi-vs-stray-male yowling. This was a cat-scream. And it happened again, accompanied by woods rustling. And I suddenly remembered the warning my mom had given me a few days prior: SOmething was snatching my parents' cats. All the tame ones, not the ferals. Of course. My mom thought coyote, my dad thinks panther.

And here was cat-screaming coming from the woods, seemingly right under my window and my stomach was in my throat. Because I knew that no matter how hard I hoped and prayed, odds were bad that it was one of my coddled little lovies. Then I sobbingly hoped it was Gypsy.
I know, I'm going to hell. I chose between my fur-babies.
But all of Luke's rats kept dying. Only his, who were always healthy- and he considers Pi HIS cat. So I bargained. Please God, let it be a stray. If it has to be one of mine, let Pi live.
God, can I say the noises were horrible? Gypsy did not go gently into that good night, but I really wish she would have. I get sick thinking of what I heard that night. The plaintive, strangled mews. The rustling between the mews that I envisioned as the captive being shaken.
I tried yelling out the window. I tried shining my flashlight. Nothing gave the creature pause. My mom argued that it was not as near as I thought, and so it felt protected enough to continue. I went to the front door and called for them both to no avail. I spent the rest of the night half awake, praying that they would both come running in when I openned the front door in the morning. That whatever was out there didn't want a chaser.

Neither happened.
I called my mom and asked her to keep an eye out.
Pi showed up late that afternoon and wouldn't go outside again unless we were with him. Literally, we would walk outside, he would follow. Then as soon as we walked in, he was right on our heels.
Almost a month later, Gypsy is no longer on the missing list. I accept that it was her calling out that night. My "little" calico ball of squish. The one of the kittens I intended to get. Pi had simply not gotten a home yet, so we took him as well when we picked up Gypsy.
Pi now sleeps next to me where Gypsy used to and spends every night inside at my insistance. But he caves easily. If I shut him out because he's not coming when I call, I'll hear scrambling acros the porch roof or a plaintive mew in 30 seconds, at which time he will saunter in and give me a backwards glance as if to say, "I wasn't paniced for a moment. I swear. Thanks for holding the door, BTW."
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Feelin': sadsad
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