A story that precedes the last, one that makes me sadder than that one.

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Six years ago, we came into possession of a tiny kitten, unweaned, who was the sole survivor of a dog attack on her little feral family. My daughter's friend discovered the carnage and then found what turned out to be my Baby Cat. She never has been fully adaptable to the love bestowed by humans (except when very tiny and she knew she depended on us), but she grew to love us in her own way and I became "her" human. I still couldn't pick her up and hold her for any length of time without her protests, but she always wanted to be laying near me or on me or on the desk in front of me where she would give me headbutts and kitty kisses and purr like crazy. She recently began coming in to sleep with me having previously rejected it because it meant sharing the space with two other cats. Then, four months ago, my daughter decided to spend hundreds of dollars to buy a dog - a 10-week-old puppy, but still a dog. She brushed off my distinct concerns about Baby Cat and the trauma she'd undergone as a kitten. "She can't remember that!!" My response was something akin to bullspit. Less than three months later, my Baby Cat disappeared. We have not found her in over a month, although we haven't seen any little bodies about either. Some in our city claim to have seen her, some even providing details I never put in the flyer making me believe that, yes, she is still alive and depending on the kindness of the many cat people here. But, as with the chewed up item that got thrown at me, her disappearance is my fault. I left the door open (um - she propped the door open so the dog could go in and out). I wasn't diligent enough, etc etc etc. I miss my Baby Cat. I miss her more than I could ever have imagined. I'm not physically capable of walking from here to where she was last seen. The one time my daughter drove me through there, it was at midnight and she freaked out that I called Baby's name out the window (why the **** was I screaming out the window at midnight??!!? People are sleeping!!!) despite the fact that I am never taken there when it is light or early evening. I wasn't screaming. Believe me - if I were screaming, the entire street would have heard it. But, I do so miss my little brat cat. She loved me. She didn't just want food from me. She loved me. And, I loved her. I still do. If you pray or send white light or whatever your belief system has you do, please do it so my Baby will come home. I want her back so bad.