When we got home, we had the cat shut up in the laundry room with his food, water, litter box, bed, etc. But he didn't feel like staying in there, and snuck out while I was doing laundry. Things were fine for a little bit, but the new dogs don't know our cat, and there was some growling involved between Kevin and the husky.
And then the pit bull got involved. Apparently, she's really good at dealing with squirrels. But Kevin isn't a squirrel. That didn't stop Ellie, who grabbed him by the neck and started shaking him. My wife was freaking out, thinking we were about to watch a cat die. Ashton and I jumped in to try to pull the dog's jaws apart, but pit bulls are strong, and Kevin wasn't going down without a fight. We both ended up with serious scratches from the frantic cat until we finally got her mouth open and out came the cat, shaken and terrified, but alive.
After that, Kevin ended up in the basement with all his stuff, although he mostly just hid under the stairs and didn't move all night. Can't blame him, really. In the morning, he wasn't there; he was hiding in the back corner of the basement. We left him there until our friends left to go get their new house; Kevin eventually came back up on his own, and we found him up in our bedroom in the evening, sitting in the windowsill. He was much more affectionate with us than before, allowing us to pet him more or less freely.
Saturday was good as well, and Kevin seemed to be coping with the trauma. We joked that he was down to eight lives, because we really thought Ellie was going to kill him. But he was doing fine.
Then Sunday happened. He went to the back door, and I gladly let him out, thinking he was feeling well enough to go outside. But he didn't come back all day. He wasn't there at night, either; I went out looking for him several times during the day, and called him repeatedly before finally going to bed late. No sign of him.
In the morning, no change. Dannielle and I both read up on cats' behavior, and we learned that when cats sense their imminent death, they will go and hide to prevent a predator from killing them while they are weak, preferring to die peacefully. That's great, but it didn't do our emotional stability any good. We realized that Kevin had gone off to die quietly somewhere, probably on the property. But it's twenty acres, ten of it woods; there was no way we were going to find him if he was hiding. And the thought of finding his body in six months was not at all pleasant.
We got through the day today, talking about getting another cat soon. As usual, the dogs wanted to go outside after it got dark, and I opened the door. On the way out, I told Dexter to go find Kevin; I don't know why I said it, but I did. A few minutes later, Dexter was barking, which isn't at all unusual for a beagle. I opened the door to let him in or tell him to be quiet, and I saw him run over to the side porch. For some reason I went around to the back door and looked outside...and there was Kevin, sitting up on the porch rail like he always does when he wants in.
I couldn't believe it; I grabbed him and brought him inside, and there was much rejoicing. Tanner even tore his attention away from his video games long enough to hug the cat. He was hungry, but he's alive and looks to be doing well. And now he's rubbing against my leg like he's hungry again. So, I'm going to go feed him a bit, and say another prayer of thanks that we didn't lose a family member this weekend.
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