Something wonderful happened in our home a few weeks ago - our cat came back!
Our sweet little Sachi-cat, whom we reared from when he was just three weeks old, ran away from my father & step-mother's house a few weeks after we moved here. Understandably, the move was all a bit much for him, so when my sister came to visit with her dog, he bolted into the woods. We were devastated, and little M., who loves him so, never stopped talking about him. ('I have a cat, his name is Sacho. He's my friend.' Heartbreaking.) We looked for him for weeks, but nothing. When winter set in, our hearts sank because we couldn't imagine how he could survive both the coyotes and the cold weather, especially as he's a very docile, spoiled little cat who's never had to hunt or fend for himself.
But then one evening my sister and stepmother showed up with a cat cage, and even then I assumed they were bringing us a new cat, a cat they'd found in the woods who needed a home. But lo and behold, it was our dear little one, skinny as hell but otherwise fine. Some very nice people had found him just a week earlier, taken him to the vet, and placed an ad in the local paper, which my stepmother then spotted. They wouldn't even take any money for the vet. We are so grateful. Leslie, Lucy, Nick, Amy: you are our Christmas angels!
Happy Christmas and whatever else you celebrate, everyone!