So after the jackass called and said that he had Roosevelt but wasn't going to give him to me because my reward wasn't big enough, I decided that I still needed to do more. I placed an ad in one of the local newspapers which cost me $20. (I think that's a rip off because if I had free kittens to give away, I wouldn't have to pay! But I do for a lost one? Whatever.) Eventually, I got a phone call that my cat had been spotted on Columbia College campus.
Columbia College is probably about five miles and several busy roads away. But then again, Roosevelt had been missing for almost two weeks at this point. Joe and I go there and look for him. No luck but everyone we asked said that they had seen him and the cat they described (such as laying on the sidewalk lazily watching rabbits hop by) seemed like Roosevelt. Joe and I returned to put up fliers which earned several more calls thoughout the weekend. I also managed to snag a cat, cuddle on it and then let it go. It was pretty-like a Maine Coon or something.
Monday, I recieved several more calls about Roosevelt being there on campus but after a through description, concluded that it wasn't actually him. So Monday, I got out early enough to go to the humane society to check. No such luck. While there, I saw several very cute cats and one in particular that didn't really seem special but he caught me named Willow. The lady there said they had so many cats that they were most likely going to euthanize some. This made me cry and cry and cry. I felt so bad that I couldn't take a car load home right then and start what is destined to be my path of crazy calf, cat and pony lady. I wandered back to the CC campus to have an animal rights activist help me locate 'Roosevelt'. This cat turned out to be a lighter, furrier, less male version of my cat. I caught her, cuddled her, called the number on her collar and returned home. Her owner called me back assuring me that Ginger just liked hanging out there (on campus).
I was still crying on and off about the poor humane society cats and Roosevelt when I got another phone call. This one was saying that they had bad news but a cat missing Roosevelt's description had been found laying dead in a tree near my apartment. I asked for details and was told but promptly forgot them. Joe and I went to investigate. Once to the rough location and seeing nothing, I made Joe call them back. They didn't answer and Joe said it was probably a hoax. I made him call again. This time they answered and we found two people, one was a girl from Ross that goes to vet school with me, standing in the parking lot. They pointed to the trees in the woods where Roosevelt liked hanging out and there he was, hanging in the crook of a tree high above our heads. Sadly, he was dead. Joe took care of getting him down and burying him the next day. That's what fantastic boyfriends are for.
Needless to say, I was devistated. But I feel that at least, now I know. I won't be waiting for him to come home.
I don't think that he had been there for two weeks. Joe doesn't think that he suffered or struggled to get out. I guess he just fell. It still pains me to think though that he was out there stuck in all this rain or had heard me calling for him and wanted so badly just to be back home.
I think I'm going back to the humane society to get a cat. Joe worries that getting one so soon will just keep me sad. I worry that not having one will.
I really miss Roosevelt. Before finding him, I had to take his food dishes out of the bathroom because they were making me sad. I was still catching myself looking over from my desk when studying for NAVLE for him curled up on my bed or sprawled out on the floor waiting to take a bath. I occasionally pull back the shower curtain and expect him to be sitting on the toilet meowing at me. When my alarm goes off, I wonder where the claw to the eye is.
I know no cat can ever replace Roosevelt. He was one of a kind. That first night that I found him, he tried to eat a giant piece of dog food. It was really funny. No other cat will climb the walls litterally like he did. (Admittedly, this had decreased with his increase in girth.) None will tolerate taking baths with the dog like furry naked babies as well. None will lay on top of the dog crate or in front of Joe's digital TV just to be part of the family. None will wake me with a claw to the eyelid, a cold cat nose directly on my eyeball or to be scratched and lean into it so hard that he falls over onto my arm. None will be the cutest sheep ever. None will wear his penquin hat the same way. (His costume still sits unfinished on my sewing table.) No cat will get me for my shower around 10pm the same way. None will let me carry them like a baby or tolerate being held on my lap in such a way that they look like a furry fat old man the same way. None will sit in the windows waiting for me like he did.
In some ways, maybe a cat will. It won't ever be like Roosevelt though. Am I setting the bar too high for this new cat? Yes. Am I allowed to? Maybe. I just have to remember that 1) I love cats and 2) this new cat will provide me with new funny cat things.
I think that finding Ginger on the CC campus and going to the humane society and thus crying so hard had to relate to finding Roosevelt even if it was such a horrible way to find him. I think it was letting me know it was time. It all fit in together. I'm always going to miss Roosevelt. I loved him so much. He was my favorite boyfriend.
[EDIT-Originally posted to Blogger on 10/16/11.]
Columbia College is probably about five miles and several busy roads away. But then again, Roosevelt had been missing for almost two weeks at this point. Joe and I go there and look for him. No luck but everyone we asked said that they had seen him and the cat they described (such as laying on the sidewalk lazily watching rabbits hop by) seemed like Roosevelt. Joe and I returned to put up fliers which earned several more calls thoughout the weekend. I also managed to snag a cat, cuddle on it and then let it go. It was pretty-like a Maine Coon or something.
Monday, I recieved several more calls about Roosevelt being there on campus but after a through description, concluded that it wasn't actually him. So Monday, I got out early enough to go to the humane society to check. No such luck. While there, I saw several very cute cats and one in particular that didn't really seem special but he caught me named Willow. The lady there said they had so many cats that they were most likely going to euthanize some. This made me cry and cry and cry. I felt so bad that I couldn't take a car load home right then and start what is destined to be my path of crazy calf, cat and pony lady. I wandered back to the CC campus to have an animal rights activist help me locate 'Roosevelt'. This cat turned out to be a lighter, furrier, less male version of my cat. I caught her, cuddled her, called the number on her collar and returned home. Her owner called me back assuring me that Ginger just liked hanging out there (on campus).
I was still crying on and off about the poor humane society cats and Roosevelt when I got another phone call. This one was saying that they had bad news but a cat missing Roosevelt's description had been found laying dead in a tree near my apartment. I asked for details and was told but promptly forgot them. Joe and I went to investigate. Once to the rough location and seeing nothing, I made Joe call them back. They didn't answer and Joe said it was probably a hoax. I made him call again. This time they answered and we found two people, one was a girl from Ross that goes to vet school with me, standing in the parking lot. They pointed to the trees in the woods where Roosevelt liked hanging out and there he was, hanging in the crook of a tree high above our heads. Sadly, he was dead. Joe took care of getting him down and burying him the next day. That's what fantastic boyfriends are for.
Needless to say, I was devistated. But I feel that at least, now I know. I won't be waiting for him to come home.
I don't think that he had been there for two weeks. Joe doesn't think that he suffered or struggled to get out. I guess he just fell. It still pains me to think though that he was out there stuck in all this rain or had heard me calling for him and wanted so badly just to be back home.
I think I'm going back to the humane society to get a cat. Joe worries that getting one so soon will just keep me sad. I worry that not having one will.
I really miss Roosevelt. Before finding him, I had to take his food dishes out of the bathroom because they were making me sad. I was still catching myself looking over from my desk when studying for NAVLE for him curled up on my bed or sprawled out on the floor waiting to take a bath. I occasionally pull back the shower curtain and expect him to be sitting on the toilet meowing at me. When my alarm goes off, I wonder where the claw to the eye is.
I know no cat can ever replace Roosevelt. He was one of a kind. That first night that I found him, he tried to eat a giant piece of dog food. It was really funny. No other cat will climb the walls litterally like he did. (Admittedly, this had decreased with his increase in girth.) None will tolerate taking baths with the dog like furry naked babies as well. None will lay on top of the dog crate or in front of Joe's digital TV just to be part of the family. None will wake me with a claw to the eyelid, a cold cat nose directly on my eyeball or to be scratched and lean into it so hard that he falls over onto my arm. None will be the cutest sheep ever. None will wear his penquin hat the same way. (His costume still sits unfinished on my sewing table.) No cat will get me for my shower around 10pm the same way. None will let me carry them like a baby or tolerate being held on my lap in such a way that they look like a furry fat old man the same way. None will sit in the windows waiting for me like he did.
In some ways, maybe a cat will. It won't ever be like Roosevelt though. Am I setting the bar too high for this new cat? Yes. Am I allowed to? Maybe. I just have to remember that 1) I love cats and 2) this new cat will provide me with new funny cat things.
I think that finding Ginger on the CC campus and going to the humane society and thus crying so hard had to relate to finding Roosevelt even if it was such a horrible way to find him. I think it was letting me know it was time. It all fit in together. I'm always going to miss Roosevelt. I loved him so much. He was my favorite boyfriend.
[EDIT-Originally posted to Blogger on 10/16/11.]
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