Gone

This morning I woke up realising that there was little more I could do to find Fudge. Michelle and I along with the help of family and friends have searched for days in every direction possible. We have posted leaflets and put up posters offering a £100 reward. We have phone everyone we could phone four or five times and been told over and over again that there is no information on where Fudge could be.

Nobody has picked her up. Nobody helpful has phoned in repose to the posters (We've had two "prank" calls), Nobody has seen any trace of her since Tuesday night. 5 days have passed and there is no trace.

We have heard many stories of lost cats returning after days, weeks, even months but neither of us, Michelle or I, is convinced that this will be the case with Fudge. We still have a hope of course, but it is small and fading.

Fudge does not venture outside. She is not a hunter. She is not used to living in the open. She is timid and she would be afraid of anyone who approached her. The likelihood that she could survive outside for this long is slim.

Many may think it is ridiculous to that Michelle and I are so affected by Fudges disappearance, especially in light of the imminent birth of our son, but she is our cat.

Our cat who would watch for us coming home from the window before running to meet us at the door. Our cat who followed us around the house. Our cat who loved to eat a little bit of cake (especially coconut). Our cat who would purr so loudly just because she was near us. Our cat who we miss so much.
Our cat who is gone.