The Prodigal Cat

Breaking news!  We were worried!

We have 2 cats. The neutered male, Panger, has long black fur and the handsomest white belly you just cannot resist wanting to rub. He is so friendly to people and dogs and has no fear. He helps himself to somebody else’s doggy door and greets those inside. He roams the neighborhood, thankfully checking in from time to time to tease us with his presence, talk to us about his escapades and gas up for another round.

Oh, please, Panger! Why won’t you stay in the yard where you’d be safe and always with us. But he demands his freedom and insists on carousing.

Last Thursday night at some unknown hour of mischief, Panger snuck out and missed curfew. Oh well, what else is new, our wayward son is gaddingabout, and we didn’t give it much thought, he’ll be curled up in his chair in the morn.  Alas, no sign of him pushing open the bedroom door before daybreak and demanding breakfast!  Time to worry.

Did he wander too far? To the hogbacks where a coyote would have feasted? Cat-nabbed by an adoring child?

With each day no Panger, our fears for the worst took on life. Did he go to a country far away where he wasted his 9 lives in reckless living? Did some pig farmer have him in slavery, with our poor Panger wasting away shunning the unclean? Thankfully our pudge had a few pounds to play with because he had just returned from apartment life in Denver.

We tried to get on with life but our minds were constantly thinking of our wayward son. From the first night, we’d go outside in a stupor and call out “Pangerrrrrrrrr!” and who knows how many times we repeated this act of pathetic desperation. In the past Panger would somehow hear our cries afar and come grace us with his favor.

Friday we walked all around the neighborhood and thankfully found no dead body. A call to the Humane Society turned up no leads. That’s ok, somebody has him trapped in their home and Panger is good at timing a bustout through open legs at an open door.

Our spayed female, Josie, never a worry, immediately knew her wandering brother was missing. Instead of being jealous over all the attention going Panger’s way, Josie assumed stakeout in the backyard by the fence scanning for first look. She looked like she was joining us in vigil prayer.

Today a week later that feels like eternity the Humane Society called with the thrilling news that they had a cat matching our description! We drove over and it was our Prodigal Cat! We were challenged to forgive because it turns out they were the ones who nabbed Panger. He was hanging out at the wrong time and place with some feral cats a block away on Mystic Avenue and got scooped up in the sting.

We fell on his neck and kissed him — on his irresistible white nose. We will bring his favorite blanky and wrap him up warm. We’ll kill the fatted can of salmon and feast on hugs and belly rubs.

For this cat of ours was dead, but now he is alive; he was lost, but now he has been found.

Oh yeah, instead of putting a ring on his paw, we’ll put an address and phone tag on his neck so poor Panger won’t ever be a prodigal cat again.

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FUN FACT: Bears, wolves and cougars! Oh my! Half of our young calves don’t live beyond 6 weeks. But our biggest threat is collision with your cars. Be warned because you might feel more like the one runover! Thankfully you don’t have to worry about us sneaking in your doggy door. Welcome home, Panger!

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