Although I was grief stricken on Thursday evening after getting the news about Teddy, I did what I felt was the best thing to do and went out trapping and managed to get two females. Every cat who won't be born to live to be a homeless cat is a triumph. No matter how well fed they are or how good their environment is, it's a hard life being a feral cat. Teddy did pretty well compared to many.
I think that's what is so heartbreaking about Buddy, that I can't care for him even as well as my ferals, that he won't come for food, even the ferals run to us, but Buddy the other way. The other difficult part is that he was such an integral part of our day to day life, he was the light of the house, and I miss him profoundly, it's been more than 30 days now.
The animal communicators all say he's having fun, but it's hard to accept and just let go. Maybe that is part of the lesson of all this, Teddy, Buddy, caring for ferals, I feel like I have control and want to have control, but that's just an illusion, not just with cats, but with life in general.
Two of my relocated cats have disappeared after things got too busy at the yard with boats and dumpsters moving, but there's another example of things I can't control.
What's the saying? Show up, do your best and don't be too attached to the outcome.
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