I searched for an hour or so but that cat was having a good time elsewhere. I wasn't hugely panicked as I know he knows where he lives, just worried "something" would get him for dinner. I called for him. I let Ellie da Pug run and look for him, as they are good friends. Nada. I left to go to class during which my awesome neighbor called in sightings multiple times. Devil cat. Can't get close. When I came home, I did as instructed by my Cat Expert Friends and put his litter box on the porch. Seamus took position in the window, screaming meows to the neighborhood. I put the now noisy birds to bed -- noisy because their routine was disrupted and they were freaking out with all the activity in the yard (note:a pissed macaw is an EXCELLENT security device.)
Then, to may amazement, as I was shutting the door, Mt. Wild Thang comes strolling down the driveway and into the yard like Frank Sinatra. So chill. If he had pockets his paws would have been in them, and he would have been whistling. I calmly held the door open and he came in, watching him headbutt Ellie and walk in like a BMOC. He had literal swagger. He was pumped. He was a free, natural, cat. Not nervous, not unsure, but confident and powerful. My lion-man.
Once inside with a closed door behind him, I scooped him up and snuggled him to pieces. His size is deceiving -- he looks like a big cat but he is really skinny. It is all poofy, silky, golden hair. I squished his furry self and reprimanded him for The Great Escape, and realized how much I would have lost if he hadn't made it home. It is sickening to think of what could have happened. I grew up in this house with free-roaming cats. The oldest reached fifteen and died a natural death. It is a shame I can't trust the natural world to let these cats have their freedoms. They need the air, the sky, the grass. Am I cheating him out of the life he wants by protecting him for my own happiness and his safety? What if he needs to be out there to fulfill his needs, even if it means an unpleasant end? Am I being selfish? I'll never know. I do know that I just couldn't take nursing a beloved cat back to life the way I had to for Theo before, and seeing him in such a physically degraded state. Or having one go missing (RIP Roddycat.) Too much weight to bear for failing as a pet parent. Which makes it about me, not him, which doesn't make me too reassured about my decision.
"We are responsible for what we have tamed," said Antoine de Saint-Exupery. And to feel Theo dissolve into my arms when I scoop him up, I know he is too big of a wuss to be the Wild Thang he thinks he is. His little field trip yesterday will have to do. Sorry, pal!