My Cat Boy Is Staying Behind

I’ll be down to ten cats when I leave, because I found someone to take Boy.

I feed the cats in the evening now to get them all in, but Boy began howling at the window after dinner so I started letting him out. He prefers being outside and hunting. Boy is a wild little man-cat.

When I get ready for bed I go out and call Boy. Usually I hear him calling out to me from the dark, and then he comes out of the bushes and slowly makes his way to me, talking the entire while. He’ll pause and shake his rear and tail like he’s going to spray. Sometimes he plops down on his side inviting me to rub him.

A few times he hasn’t come home at night but usually he just shows up at the back door around eleven o’clock (tripping the motion sensor light) with a live rodent, which I let loose to live another day.

Boy was the last of the shelter kittens I fostered. He entered my home with nine others foster kittens and the mother of five of them. I kept Boy, and his sisters Babette and Minky. But I returned Babette and Minky to the shelter, because one of them was peeing in my silverware strainer and in bowls. It was too much on top of ten cats. No foster kittens are euthanized, and the shelter informs me they were adopted out as barn cats. Sometimes during the night Boy pees on the kitchen counter. I wonder if even cats can understand that bizarre behavior. The kitchen counter, Boy? What gives?

Boy would not do well locked in an apartment. He’s just too wild. So I’ve found him a barn to live in. The woman who is taking him needs a good mouser. I’m going to miss Boy, but he’ll be much happier being a country cat.

I’ve been transitioning him to a canned food that is affordable but contains no meat products. Unfortunately, it does contain grain. I’m hoping the new owner will continue to feed him canned food and not dry. She’ll probably vaccinate him, too, which is a shame. He’s over two years old and hasn’t been sick a day. He’s extremely healthy and I dread thinking of veterinarians injecting him with toxins.

Monday I took videos of Boy for memories. I let him out late Monday night. I didn’t want to, but it was really late and he wanted out. I thought, This may be the last time he comes to visit me in the tent. He’s completely transitioned to canned food. He’s ready to go to his new home. So I let him out.

I haven’t seen him since, and I haven’t found his calling card (a dead rodent) anywhere.

I’ve had a feeling for many months that Boy wasn’t coming with us. The kind of feeling that made me check the road every time I drove home expecting Boy to be lying dead on it.

I asked a woman to ask around for another home so he could live outside, and I was so pleased when she found one. I thought that’s why I was feeling bad about him not coming. But now, I don’t know.

Did someone or something kill him? He’s never been gone more than 24 hours. If he found himself a home, I’d be very happy for him. But not knowing makes me sad. What happens if he’s just roaming and he comes home in three weeks to find me gone?

Come home, Boy.