We got our cat, Rooney, almost 3 years ago, after I had started working from home and felt like it would be nice to have a pet around. Neil had never had a cat growing up and thought he didn't really like cats, but he was willing to let me bring a kitten home. I knew I wanted a male cat, because in my opinion they are a bit more calm and friendly than most female cats I've known. So I brought Rooney home one day in December. He has turned out to be the best cat and has such a great personality. Neil has fallen in love with him (and Rooney with Neil) and he has become part of our family. He is pretty independent and has a routine that works with our schedule for the most part. He goes outside in the morning when Neil gets up, then comes back in around noon for an afternoon nap, then goes back outside around 4 or 5pm for some more hunting and exploring. He LOVES being outside and goes crazy if he doesn't get enough outside time. However, one night last May our neighbor's cat, Fergus, was killed by a coyote. And ever since then I have obsessively been locking Rooney inside at night, which means if it gets to be dark and he's not home then we call him or walk to his favorite fields to bring him in. He almost always answers our calls with a meow and comes running or comes through the cat door or pops up in the window to come in shortly after we've called him.
Well, recently we had noticed that he had been scratching a bit and I thought I saw a flea on him and Neil kept saying we should put flea medicine on him, so last Tuesday morning I got out the flea stuff, read the directions, and put it behind his head before he went outside. I figured it would dry outside and he would be hunting, etc. and not try to lick it off or anything. The package says, DO NOT LET YOUR PET GET IT IN THEIR MOUTH. He came in for the afternoon nap, but I saw by that point that some of his fur was wet on the top of his shoulder blade where he could lick it if he strained his neck. And that's exactly what he was doing. So I got him to drink some water and figured he'd be fine. Around 3pm he went back outside.
Neil and I had to leave the house shortly before 5 to make it to our first childbirth class at the hospital in Bozeman at 6. We called Rooney briefly to see if he'd happen to come in, but we didn't see him. Neil said to leave his bowl of food empty, so when we got home he'd come running for some food, so I did.
The class ended up being pretty fun and the cutest part was that it made Neil so excited! Afterwards he was all giddy and talkative and when he said it made him excited I said, "What, for the labor and delivery?!" He said, "No, just for being a dad." He's going to be such a fantastic dad, I can't wait. After the 8 couples had introduced themselves, the nurse had talked a bit about labor. She was funny and made it entertaining. Then a physical therapist took over the class and talked to us about posture, proper lifting of car seats, etc. and had us all doing stretches and exercises on the floor, which was funny. Neil is so willing to just jump in and do anything he is told will help me. I can just imagine how helpful he is going to try to be in the delivery room. Now if it is actually helpful? That is the question and even I don't know what to fully expect.
In any case, we got out of the class around 7:30 and stopped to buy a few groceries before getting home around 8:30. And Rooney was no where to be seen and didn't come running for food. We called him, waited, and he didn't come. We walked around the neighborhood calling him and checking in all of his favorite places to hang out, but didn't find him. We watched tv and waited for him to pop up in the window to come in, but he didn't come. 9:30, 10, 10:30 and no Rooney.
I started to think that maybe he had gotten sick from the flea medicine or something terrible happened to him. I looked up the flea medicine and reviews online, which was a bad idea..."this killed my cat", "my cat began foaming from the mouth", "my cat started having nervous system problems", "this is poison!". Oh, my, gosh, I've killed our cat! I thought we had used that flea medicine on Rooney before, but Neil told me we hadn't. I should have locked him in the house that afternoon so we could see if he reacted to the medicine at all. It wasn't too abnormal for him to not show up until late, but that coupled with him not having any food in his dish and the flea medicine was quite worrisome.
A little before 11 Neil took the flashlight to go out and do another search of the surrounding area. I called my parents in tears. My dad said he was probably just out doing cat things and oblivious that we were worried about him. My mom said we needed to learn how to relax and just accept what happens. And that we're going to have ulcers and high blood pressure having our own child.
Around 11:45pm Neil and I figured we should try to get some sleep, we shut all the lights off, left the cat door open and started brushing our teeth. I went downstairs one more time to check the front porch and see if he had come in the cat door, but no Rooney. A few minutes later Neil went downstairs and I heard him start yelling, "Rooney! You scared us half to death! Get in here." He had just appeared on the back porch, looking perfectly healthy and normal. And even kind of warm even though it was cold outside. Was he sleeping under the bed in the back bedroom after sneaking into the Nedved's house next door? Did he have another family in the neighborhood taking him in and feeding him?
We were so relieved that he was alive and safe and of course he promptly curled up at my feet on the bed like nothing was out of the ordinary. (On a side note Neil even thinks that Rooney knows I'm pregnant since he often sleeps and snuggles near me, etc.) Neil and I joked about our kids when they are teenagers being out late and coming home saying, "What? I'm fine. Why were you so worried?" Oh, my goodness, I have a lot of years of worrying ahead of me. Time to take some deep breaths and just do the best I can to trust and accept whatever happens.
I know some day he will die, maybe from a coyote or never coming home one day or as an old cat here at home, and I will be extremely sad when that happens. But at least he is having a great life exploring the outdoors and yes, being spoiled by me sometimes. He has a good life. Maybe we are crazy cat people.
A few weeks after we brought him home when he curled up in the clean clothes I was putting away.
The other night I couldn't find him anywhere in the house and finally found him in Neil's closet sleeping in the dirty laundry.
What a great story! I bet that Beartooth Baby Girl Johnson will love hearing it over and over. :)
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