Disappearance

Nobody knows where she went, when she came back, or whether she came back only to go out and come back again. I suspect she was lured home by her hunger, for by morning I could see the bottom of her bowl of food. Canned food, which I had put out earlier during the day in the hope that she would jump right back into the house upon hearing the screeching sound of the can being opened. But she did not come back immediately. She was "missing in action" (MIA) for almost twenty four hours.

Nobody knows who she was with, or perhaps what she was with, if she was at all with anyone or anything. Perhaps she just lounged in the grass or shrubs of my neighbour's garden, perhaps she just lay there to absorb some sun, because her room, the one with a lot of sunshine during the day, is now off-limits after my flatmate moved in. The same flatmate who claims that my cat is "depressed", and later said that she is just bored.

Nobody knows what she did, what made her loose her collar. The collar with her cat-tag and my phone number on the back that a friend had given to my cat as a gift. Nobody knows, except for the cat, what suddenly made her so pensive, what made her quieter, to the extent that her usual highpitched screech is now nothing more than a soft murmur. Perhaps she has seen things while MIA a cat should have never seen. Perhaps, in the big bad world out there, with stinking skunks, the ginger bully next door, and player tomcats, she had experienced a terrible fright, and that made her go quiet.

But I woke up this morning, I found her lying on her usual spot on the sofa, her neck naked and her blue collar missing. The whole day she yawned, curled up and slept, the fabric under her belly warm from her little soft, furry body.

She is a mystery, my cat. In the way she tiptoes to stare out the window for ages. In the way she comes to my bed and walks around on my bed at night, just before I fall asleep. In the way she likes to peek into the bathroom whenever I am showering, peeing or pooing. She is a special little creature with a mind and character of her own, who likes to jump and hide in boxes, who likes to navigate the maze of feet at the bottom of the kitchen table and chairs, who like to butt her head against my fingers when I hold them out.

She is a special little creature who makes me feel so happy and loved.