My sweet young barn cat, Bobby Seal, is missing. I have not seen him in four days. I fear the worst. I feel sick.
The photo above was taken a week ago, on the first day I ever saw him venture outside the barn for more than a quick glance. I was so pleased for him. He had gained confidence and trust (and much needed weight) all winter. Though still easily startled and shy, he was such a love, always eager for petting. All I had to do was climb up into the hayloft and there he’d be, pacing the floor, wanting me to sit down to snuggle with him.
He had won over my cranky older female, Flossie — who went from grumbling and hissing and slapping at him with raking claws to pushing her head into his flank and purring.
I am going to check at the trailer park across the highway, but I’m afraid.