Cher

It's been over 2 weeks since we last saw Cher. The realist in me recognizes that she's not coming back.  If she could have, she would have come home.  But there's a small part of me that has hope that she found warmth and safety with a compassionate neighbor, and maybe someday she'll come back either on her own or because of her microchip.

Again the realist chimes in and reminds me that to describe Cher as a quirky cat is generous at best.  She doesn't really like people, certainly not strangers.  Basically, she likes me.  Even her relationship with Marty is tenuous.  She's never forgiven him for those couple of times he took her to the vet; or that he tricked her by luring her with treats (I've done the exact same thing many more times, but somehow, she didn't hold an eternal grudge against me).  Like I said, she's quirky and doesn't really like people, so it's really hard to imagine her allowing herself to be caught by even the nicest of strangers.

In spite of all her quirks, I miss her.  I'm sad she's gone.  I miss her and Razor competing for my attention.  I miss our nighttime routine--she'd follow me up to the bedroom, she'd wait on my bed-side table for me to get in bed, and then she'd get on the bed (either next to or on me) for me to pet her.  I miss our morning routine--she would sit on my bed-side table and ever so gently tap me with her paw.  If I didn't respond, she'd extend her claws just the tiniest bit and pat me again--as if to remind me that she was being nice, but she could escalate her efforts.  Usually (especially if my alarm had already indicated it was time for me to get up), she and Razor would combine their efforts to get me up.  Once up, Cher was first to be fed and then down to feed Razor. Cher waited for me as I showered and then was there to insist on being petted while she worked on her breakfast  some more.  I miss how I'd find her sitting in the front window sill keeping watch over the front of the house.  I miss how since I've been pregnant, she liked to sleep on my belly.  And I miss how she liked to watch TV--whether Big Cat Diary or other shows about big cats or even So Cute on Animal Planet--a show about litters of house cat kittens.

On the day Cher disappeared I remember noticing how she had perched herself on the arm of the couch.  I remember feeling very sentimental about seeing her there.

When we got home from our couple of days in Utah for Christmas, Razor ran through the house looking for Cher, like she's done when we've gotten home from so many of our past trips.  And I went right to the bowl of food I'd left out in the back just in case--it was untouched.  Every so often in the past 2 weeks, something in my peripheral vision will catch my attention and I'll turn to see if it's Cher.