If you read my blog much or know me, you’ll know about Charlie Cat going MIA. He’s not back, but I think it’s about time I recounted the last part of the story, so here goes:
One of the calls that came as a result of my posters was from a lady less than half a mile away. She’d started having a furball visitor that matched Charlie’s description at the time he disappeared. As she lives the other side of a motorway bridge it seemed likely that he’d made his way over and couldn’t find the bridge to get back. She was great and moved her lawn mower into her bathroom to make room in her shed for a bed for him (!!!) and fed him every night. When he appeared I’d get a call, rush down and…usually miss him.
One night she had the idea that I should lie in wait in her kitchen, armed with binoculars and see what happened. He finally arrived and I was 90% sure it was him. I went outside and he spent time looking at me before running away – a good sign we thought.
The next step was the cat trap – a huge metal container that traps the cat if it goes in to eat. Amazingly, we had success the first night and I rushed around to identify him. It was him, I was sure. We took him to the vets to get him officially identified and checked but…he had no chip. I informed the vet that the chip must have fallen out because It. Was. Definitely. Him.
The vet knows me (and Charlie) quite well and tried to tell me it wasn’t likely but when I insisted he lifted ‘Charlie’s’ tail and told me that ‘as a general rule, testicles don’t grow back’. (Charlie was neutered; Charlie 2 was rather well endowed).
So now it’s just me and Norman at Pog Towers. Norman is loving all the extra attention and is treating me like a queen. Last week he bought me two mice and three slices of cooked beef. Yesterday he excelled himself with a piece of breaded chicken complete with lettuce leaf. I’ve been told to forget Charlie Cat now, but you never know what Norman might bring back next :o)
For now though, it’s good bye Charlie Cat.