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Audrey went missing Labor Day weekend '04, as she's done every year since '96 or '97. This time she didn't come back and she didn't come back and she didn't come back. We thought she'd moved out. She'd lost her beloved granddad that spring and, for all we knew, he was the only reason she'd stayed with us as long as she had. Ten weeks later, I stepped out onto the back porch to clean up some of the critter plates and---there was Audrey! She was scared, scruffy, filthy, and so scrawny her backbone cut my hand like a knife, but she'd made her way home. We gave her food and water and a loving welcome. Then it was clear she needed a lot of rest. She was too wobbly to make it onto her favorite high-up sleep spot. Ricky and I decided it would be best if we didn't lift her up and put her there. If she was that wobbly about going up, we were afraid she'd hurt herself coming down---so we made her a fresh sleep spot down low. I took three pictures of her that day, to prove to myself that I wasn't imagining her return. This is Audrey telling me that she didn't want me to take pictures. She wanted me to pull off the ticks that were plaguing her and she wanted me to rub her head and she wanted me to croon to her until she fell asleep. So that's exactly what I did. |
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