The pussy whisperer

I have a grad class on Tuesday evenings, and to avoid the ever-vigilant Parking Nazis on campus, I park my car on a side street near the University. On my hike back from campus, I was thinking about some of the themes of the class - about how you can't remain silent when there's suffering - you need to act and help those in need. And that's when I heard it. A yowling, anguished cry coming from a nearby cluster of bushes.

At first, I kept walking, but the crying increased and became more frequent. I paused and then slowly walked toward the noise.

Mrrrrrroooowwww, Mrrrooowww, Mrooowwwwwww.

I wondered if he was stuck in a tree or hurt, but when I looked under the bush, he came out right away and started rubbing up against my legs and meowing happily as I petted his furry orange head. He was starved for attention, and he appeared quite hungry. I checked his ear for a tattoo, and there was one there. So, clearly, he had a home, but I had a feeling he was lost or abandoned, by the way he was acting.

Torn about what to do, I decided on an experiment. I started walking away from the cat to see his response. He not only followed me, but ran ahead of me and cut me off, to ensure I wasn't going anywhere without him. As I continued to walk along the street, he trotted alongside me like a dog. I crossed one street and then two more, and he was still firmly in tow.

We got to my car. I felt really weird, as though I were kidnapping someone's pet if I were to take him with me. So, I did another experiment and told myself that if I opened the car door and the cat got into my car of his own accord, then that meant I should take him.

I got into my car, and he jumped right in afterward. "Well, little dude, I guess you're coming home with me." He curled up in my back window and made hardly any noise on the entire ride home.

Once we got home, I put him in the bathroom and fed him some wet food, which he pounced on and devoured. He obviously hadn't eaten for quite awhile. So long, in fact, that it took him 24 hours to use the litter box after I fed him. Poor little dude. I started calling him Freddy, for lack of a better name, and my roommate referred to him as Crazy, because he was always meowing and acting kind of nuts. Can't blame him, really. Talk about a culture shock (particularly dealing with my freak dog, of whom Crazy Freddy was NOT a fan.)

I went down a few avenues to track down his owners, and finally found them today. Here's the weird part - he had only been missing since Friday, and the owners live not too far from me. None of us could believe this cat had gone all the way down to the university, which is across the city from here, and at least an hour by foot. No wonder he was already looking thin! His owners were so thrilled to have him back. They even gave me a $20 reward, which I will be donating to the animal rescue organization I volunteer with.

After feeling so torn about picking him up, it felt so good to know I made the right decision. Particularly because the day after I picked him up, we had some severe wind and rain storms. I'm not sure how much longer he would have made it out there, and I'm pretty sure he would never have been reunited with his owners.

I have a feeling this little Boi (his real name) won't be wandering off again anytime soon.