KSee
A Disturbance in the Force
Here to tell you a story in 2010 I bought my first house in the village where Iāve lived my whole life. I grew up with cats, cats came before I did, so cat-life was inevitable. I adopted a cat, and got him a cat flap, which he outright refused to use, and went in and out of the living room window. Next door, they also had a cat. A big, burly, ginger cat, they called him Garfield (inventive). āGarfieldā wasnāt neutered and I know now that this is part of the reason he would hulk through my Vinnieās locked flap to get in my house. Garfield went missing around 2011, and in 2012 I moved back to my parentsā house on the street parallel. Inbetween the streets is woodland.
Around 2015 a ginger cat started appearing in the garden (attached to aforementioned woodland). Over the course of several months/years, we would occasionally see this ginger cat sunbathing.
By 2019 I had 1. Set up a voluntary chip scanning service to reunit lost pets, and 2. Met @T.C. - and we had bought the house next door to my parentsā.
By 2020, this ginger cat had made it to our garden (hard to picture, but itās uphill from the woodland). He was sniffly, clearly unwell with flu, and I made it my mission to befriend and help him.
It took the best part of a year, he started turning up on-time every night for dinner. Endless stories of building him a new outhouse with my dad, the first time he let me touch him and I donāt know who was more scared, me or himā¦ the first day he made it into our conservatory and I didnāt dare move, for him the spend the night in front of āJimās heaterā (I had to leave notes for TC to switch it off/on ). So anyway - a year on, I caught him and swooped him straight to a vet for meds and the chop (ironic timing to tell this story?)
I was certain when he got back that Iād never see him again, but quite the opposite; he started turning up for breakfast as well as dinner. We quickly ascertained that he couldnāt live with us because our (dearly departed) Denny was petrified of the ginger giant. No rescues wanted to help the āferalā. So he moved in with my mum and dad.
One day, my fb memories came up, and showed me a photo (which I sadly canāt find right now), of Garfield.
Well, Jim is Garfield. Was. Was Garfield. No doubt in my mind.
And so my long story is to tell you that although it took him some time, he followed me, because he wanted to live with us, not the neighbour. And he does, and he is adorable, and lovely, and so loved, and for however much time he is with us, I will be forever grateful that he hunted me down and gave me his trust.
Your little friend may yet return to you. And if he doesnāt, heās shown you how great it can be to have a little feline bestie
Around 2015 a ginger cat started appearing in the garden (attached to aforementioned woodland). Over the course of several months/years, we would occasionally see this ginger cat sunbathing.
By 2019 I had 1. Set up a voluntary chip scanning service to reunit lost pets, and 2. Met @T.C. - and we had bought the house next door to my parentsā.
By 2020, this ginger cat had made it to our garden (hard to picture, but itās uphill from the woodland). He was sniffly, clearly unwell with flu, and I made it my mission to befriend and help him.
It took the best part of a year, he started turning up on-time every night for dinner. Endless stories of building him a new outhouse with my dad, the first time he let me touch him and I donāt know who was more scared, me or himā¦ the first day he made it into our conservatory and I didnāt dare move, for him the spend the night in front of āJimās heaterā (I had to leave notes for TC to switch it off/on ). So anyway - a year on, I caught him and swooped him straight to a vet for meds and the chop (ironic timing to tell this story?)
I was certain when he got back that Iād never see him again, but quite the opposite; he started turning up for breakfast as well as dinner. We quickly ascertained that he couldnāt live with us because our (dearly departed) Denny was petrified of the ginger giant. No rescues wanted to help the āferalā. So he moved in with my mum and dad.
One day, my fb memories came up, and showed me a photo (which I sadly canāt find right now), of Garfield.
Well, Jim is Garfield. Was. Was Garfield. No doubt in my mind.
And so my long story is to tell you that although it took him some time, he followed me, because he wanted to live with us, not the neighbour. And he does, and he is adorable, and lovely, and so loved, and for however much time he is with us, I will be forever grateful that he hunted me down and gave me his trust.
Your little friend may yet return to you. And if he doesnāt, heās shown you how great it can be to have a little feline bestie