Is it 24 hours? 36? 48 hours? A week? How long is it that you wait before you draw that line in the sand and allow yourself to grieve and put to bed any last hope that might be in your heart. What is the right amount of time?
48 hours ago I got up bright and early Saturday morning when the cats demanded to be fed at weekday feeding time, rather than delaying on the weekend. Little did I realize when I got up to feed Jasper that would likely be the last time I'd ever see my boy. I sure didn't treat it as if it was; I was happy to get back to bed after he started eating. And now I wonder - if I had stayed up and occupied him would he not have gone on the wander or whatever it was that has caused him to go missing.
48 hours. It feels like an eternity already. I so wish I could hear his regular meow at 4am saying he wanted out. It wasn't unusual for Jasper to wander off for a whole day snoozing under a tree or something behind the neighbours in the spare section. I called him for dinner multiple times, he didn't return. He didn't return over night. I wandered the neighbourhood yesterday calling and looking and listening. I called, I called, I called. I have dropped flyers. I have not found him. The good news is I haven't found him on a road. He may be alive, even if he has moved beyond my life.
I didn't know when I went through this process when Allie died last year that I would be going through it again less than a year later. Bad luck everyone said when she died. Bad luck x 2. He hasn't been the same boy since she died. He used to love food; that changed. He definitely deprioritized it. He had almost become the neighbourhood bully of late, which is unusual for a ragdoll. Back in the day other cats would come in through the cat door and he wouldn't defend or chase them out. Lately you had hardly seen other cats since Jasper had set the boundaries.
I'll miss my boy so much; my heart does break yet again. I got him weeks after Allie and he didn't instantly win my affections like she did. She was the perfect little girl from day one; figuring out her litter box and pretty much doing what she was told. He was his own cat from day one; figuring things out slowly and on his own and pressing the boundaries. It was Jasper that was 7 months old still peeing on the bed not quite having the litter box thing sorted. It was Jasper who did eventually learn to go to the bathroom outside - first in square shape planters that looked a bit like a litterbox. It was Jasper that first pushed open the cracked window and was found outside patrolling. It was Jasper who learned to climb the "safe" fortress of my last rental property to escape and check out the neighbours. It was Jasper you'd see on the neighbours roof there. It was Jasper who has LOVED chasing possums in the sounds. It was Jasper who loved sleeping in the roof. It was Jasper that loved being carried high in the air on a chair going for his "elevator rides". Jasper has always walked outside of the lines, and again he does as wherever his footsteps have taken him; they have taken him away from home. At one point in his kittenhood I was contemplating giving him up due to the cost of his peeing actions. What I wouldn't give now in money to have him back. He has always been a character; charming at moments and infuriating at others. All of those things wormed their way into my heart. I grieve the loss of my grumpy young man. I don't think he is coming home and the days of my 2 first cats in adult life have both come to a close only a few years in.... When you love, show it every day- you have no idea when that normal morning will turn into a heartbreaker.
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