He didn’t show up for breakfast one morning, and our neighbors say probably the coyotes got him—we did actually hear them howling in the cornfields the night before, but that’s too gruesome to even consider.
The fact is, we’re fairly certain he joined the circus.
I don’t know why we didn’t see it coming, given that one of his predecessors did the very same thing. Should have suspected it—I mean, the pinups of kitties in tutus, riding unicycles wearing clown makeup…I guess we were just in denial. For a house or farm cat, circus life is a real lure—he was a stray after all. We don’t blame Junior, but a post card or something would have been nice.
That was years ago—I suppose we should stop hoping.
I found a stray kitten on the roadside recently—we named him Expendable