So I was sitting here on the couch drinking tea when the cat came by… the stray I am feeding, yowling like he does at the front window so that I will come out and give him a little love and some dinner. Generally, I pop right up and head to the garage for his food. I then sit down on the bench out front while he kneads my fuzzy jacket, then we head out to the shed where I kneel down, reach under the roll-up door that’s opened just a few inches, pull out the dish and put his food in. Generally he shoves his head in the bowl as I am pouring so several bits end up on the wooden plank outside the shed… but he eats it all up like he hasn’t eaten in months. But, tonight. I had just made my tea, so it was piping hot, the way I like it. I didn’t want to drink it cold, and I don’t like the microwave…. I thought he’d wait around. He usually does. But when I finally got around to pulling on my coat and my knit hat (that my husband says makes me look like I ride the short bus) he was gone. I called and called – every time before he has come running as fast as his cat legs will carry him from wherever it is he was doing whatever it was he was doing… but not tonight. I called and called – I mean, it was only like 20 minutes, how far would he have gone? Did he give up on me that quickly? With my highly developed abandonment issues, I am feeling sad that he left me, and guilty that he may feel that I have abandoned him. I hate both of those feelings.
I went ahead and put his food in the dish in the shed. Perhaps, he will find it there tonight if he goes in to get out of the rain, and know that I would never abandon him. It’s not what I do.