The Wanderer

After the crying came the scolding. After a hearty meal and a wash, she wanted to go back out. 

"Nonsense", the experts say.

Colin and I agreed that we would respect this new facet of her personality and be sure she's never out after dark. Prudent.

I like nothing better than hanging out in the front yard, the three of them lolling on the warm concrete or the tall grass. Free as cats.

 Camilla came to us damaged goods only three years ago. I've been fairly sure that the head injury she sustained as a kitten and her broken wrist last year,  affected her range of skills as a cat. Silly me. 

I've had a lot of cats in my life. Characters all, each with deep personalities. She's the only one who has undertaken adventure on her own. Unless something chased her. In which case, bravo on getting away, and good on ya for putting your wayfinding skills to work. 

Something about the smug way she strolled into my bedroom after seven days AWOL to go face down in the food bowl made me think her time away from home was a little bit thrilling. 

We've had a week of fine weather with a lot of tasty snacks rousted from their nests by the hurricane. A moveable feast for cats. She did a Hemingway and he would likely approve.

Before last week, I would have bet big money I knew where to find her at any given moment of the day. Never too far from the food dish. That made the disappearance all the more alarming.

She may have lost a pound or two. 

We did. 

 Losing Jinx, then Karma, and, most recently, Sweetie, to illness and old age was very hard.

But not knowing and with horrible imaginings, this disappearance was rough.

Camilla has a special place in our hearts. Only three and already with street creds. I keep getting the feeling she was running with friends.