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  • Writer's pictureKaaren Poole

An Amazing Story about a Cat

Isn't she beautiful? The first time I noticed her hanging about was three to four weeks ago. She wasn't terrified of me, like a feral cat would be. She was shy, but clearly had been around people, so apparently was a stray, or, worse, had been dumped.

I snapped this photo of her as she lay under my deck watching me pull weeds. I fed her every evening and sat on the deck steps talking with her as she ate. We also had a little socializing session every morning. Her friendliness encouraged me to think I could get her to the vet and have her be an indoor/outdoor (the outdoor part only if she wanted it) cat.

My only worry was that she'd turn out to have a microchip and I'd have to return her to her owner, which I wouldn't want to do if she had been dumped. But I really didn't see any alternative to taking her to the vet if I could catch her. And, in my mind, that was a big if. After all, petting her was one thing, but picking her up and putting her in a crate could well be quite another.

After scheduling the vet appointment I anxiously awaited the big day, nervous about how I would get her into the crate. As it turned out, it was easy. The crate had been sitting on the deck stairs for a week or so, so she was quite used to seeing it. When I went out to see her that morning, I just picked her up and shoved her in. Well, that was the easy part. Listening to the cries of misery, however, was difficult - but I was doing this for her own good, of course. The night before, I had carefully explained to her everything that would happen. If only she could understand!

Social distancing rules have finally eased up here, so I was able to be in the exam room with her. The tech came in, looked in the crate, stood up and blinked, and said "that looks just like my cat!." She took a closer look. "That looks exactly like my cat!" She pulled up her cat's record on her computer and, sure enough, the photo looked just like the cat in the crate!

"Well, it could be," I said. "She's a stray. Where do you live?"

Turns out the tech, a lovely caring young woman, lives across the street from me! In my mind, I connected the address she gave with the house.

"Madison?" I asked, totally amazed.

"Yes," she answered.

And her cat had been missing for three to four weeks. What??? I needed to face facts, and quick! Yes, this was clearly her cat. Everyone in the exam room was stunned!

This whole story sounds more outrageous than it actually is. I and my neighbors all live on ten acre parcels, and between her house and mine lie forest, a steep hill, a road, more forest, a small stream, more forest, and finally a cleared area around my house. I had never met her cats, and, I'm ashamed to say I didn't recognize her until I realized where she lived. She lives with her parents whom I see from time to time, but hadn't seen Madison since she was in high school.

It turned out the cat was one of Madison's family's barn cats, and about eight years old. She had been one of several kittens from a pregnant mom Madison had rescued all those years ago. Her birth name was 'Trinity.' I assume Trinity must have recognized her owner, but wasn't demonstrative. So what to do?

I timidly advanced the idea that I'd be happy to adopt her, and after a little thought, then checking with her mom, Madison agreed. I was so happy! And Madison and her family were all happy that Trinity would have a good home and be an indoor pet.

We did the formal transfer, I am now the cat's official human, and she is now 'Blue,' short for 'Bluebell.' I'm happy to say she's in good health. My two other cats are having a bit of difficulty accepting the interloper, but that's normal. Blue seems happy as a little clam. And so am I.

If any of the other techs had taken that appointment, the outcome would have been the same - I'd have Blue. But it was so great that Madison, who had been very worried about her cat, knew that she ended up fine. It's wonderful to have an example of a lost animal who ended up fine. Too few do. But it can happen.

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