A year and three months ago we got two cats from the SPCA. One was already named Frodo, and it was an obvious choice to name the other Sam. They were kittens. Only three months old. Sam was big slow and rather standoffish. He was always the one to be attacked; never the aggressor. He would not sit in our laps, but if one of us would sit down he would show up near our feet or on a chair or couch near us, sleeping. If we sat at the kids’ computer in the family room, he would get up on top of the monitor and sleep there. Frodo was much more energetic. He was often playing with a toy, tossing it around and pouncing on it. He too would not sit in our laps, but would sit right up against us when we sat down or lie on our feet. Like Sam, Frodo would also sleep on the monitor. Sometimes they would sit there together.
Frodo also had an unusual trait; he is a polydactyl (more than five toes on a foot). But more than that, for lots of cats have extra toes. Frodo is symmetrically polydactyl with six toes on each foot. We love both cats very much. Sam was comforting in the way he would always be near, and Frodo would sleep on somebody’s bed almost every night.
It was last summer; a year to the day from when we got the two cats that Frodo disappeared (July 15). The two were indoor cats, but we sometimes let them out in the backyard. While it was sometimes hard to get them to come in, they never left. On the night Frodo disappeared the cats had been out back for a couple of hours. It was late when I got up to go to bed. I called and Sam came in, but not Frodo. It was dark with plenty of places to hide, so I thought I would leave Frodo out side to teach him a lesson. It wasn’t the first time. The next morning Frodo was still no ware to be seen. I was not terribly concerned, and I had errands to run. I did not return until after noon. By then, we all realized that Frodo was gone. My family and I were heartbroken. Everybody cried.
The day after Frodo disappeared was the yearly neighborhood clean up. So the night before many of our neighbors, including my self had put out piles of trash and things that could not be put into the weekly garbage. There was lots of stuff out and the scavengers were driving through the neighborhood picking through the piles and taking stuff. That same night the two gates between our backyard and the front were unfortunately left open. I think Frodo wondered through the open gates to the street and some scavenger took him. That was better than thinking he had been taken by a dog or predator and killed.
We looked for Frodo for over a month. First we walked around the neighborhood and put up flyers. We knocked on a few doors. We looked in the wetland preserve near our home several times. We ran adds in the local papers and I put notices on several local Internet bulletin boards. We offered a reward. That generated several weird, one greedy response, and a few kind ones too. But we never found Frodo. After a month we stopped looking, and sadly walked about the neighborhood to take down the flyers. We never gave up hope. Frodo had a microchip which was our last chance.
Three months to the day our beloved cat Frodo disappeared I got a phone call. A man named Steve said he had our cat. He asked me a few question, mostly about Frodo’s weird feet, then he told me how he had found Frodo. We made arrangements to drive to his home that evening some forty miles south and way out in the sticks. We had to park on the side of a levee several yards from Steve’s home that was below the levee. Steve appeared in the dark about half way from his house to us with the cat in his arms. At the moment we see him the cat spooked, climbed out of Steve’s arms clawing him all the way. The cat jumped over his shoulder and disappears in the dark. The kids and I followed Steve down the levee to his ramshackle little house amongst the trees and brambles to look for Frodo. Eventually, after not finding Frodo, I sent the Kids back up the levee to be with their mom, and I went inside with Steve to wait for the cat to come back.
Steve is about my age, but he has obviously lived a harder life. He appeared to be a confirmed bachelor who is still stuck in the ‘60’s. I stayed in the house for over an hour, and he told me this story.
Steve is a union electrocution, and works where ever the union sends him. He was working on a job about eight miles north of our home when he noticed this one stray cat that was friendlier than the other strays. Steve gathered him up and took him home. He went on to tell me he was not really a cat person, but quickly came to like the cat and named him 208. (208 is the name of a cat in the book, Trout Fishing in America, by Richard Brautigan. I intend to read the book.) Steve talked about having had several tragedies in his life recently though he did not elaborate. He did tell me about his dog that was deathly ill with cancer and would not live much longer.
We saw 208 several times outside the house, but we were never able to get a hold of him. After about an hour my wife and Kids and I had had enough and decided to leave. Steve and I agreed that if 208 showed up in the next half hour or so Steve would call me and we would come back. In the mean time my family and I would drive to a small town going away from home to get something to eat and drink. I left my cat carrier with Steve and we left. Steve later told me 208 did come back into the house shortly after we left, but he could not bring himself to call us. He did not want to give up his cat.
Late the next morning I called Steve, but only got his voice mail. I called several times with out an answer. Finally about three in the afternoon Steve called me. The night before he had told me he had business in town north of us, and would be glad to bring us 208 on his way into town. But now on the phone he was very reticent to any possible way for him to bring us 208. Finally I suggested, insisted really that we come get him. Steve agreed.
When I got to Steve’s house he let me in. I could tell he was very upset by the way he would not look at me and how he kept pacing the floor. I picked up the cat carrier and he pulled 208 from under the couch. I took Frodo from Steve and stuffed him into the box much to Steve’s complaints that the box was too small. (In truth is it was a bit small, but it was all I had, and it was big enough, just cramped.) I thanked Steve and offered him a reward which he flatly refused. He was distraught. I thanked him again, turned and left. I walked back to the car, would have ran if I could have, all the while Frodo howling.
Frodo has been home three days now. He is still mostly locked up in my bedroom. He can hide under the waterbed where it is warm and dark, or sometimes under the hung clothes in our closet. He is safe there from our other cats. We wondered if he would remember his home or not, and at first we thought not. Now that he has been around the house a few times we think he does. He found the hideaway under the waterbed very quickly that first night. As he has become more comfortable he has ventured out of our bedroom a few times. One of the first places he went to was to sit atop the computer monitor in the family room, a favorite spot of his.
Sam, on the other hand clearly recognizes Frodo. He went right up to him the first chance he got. Frodo hissed at him, but Sam just sat down and looked at him. Didn’t even back off. Our new, now third cat, Nigel, which we got to replace Frodo, is another story. Still a kitten, he does not know his place and keeps pursuing Frodo trying to play. He gets hissed at, but just won’t quit. We can see that Frodo is going to take a long time to get back his trust. He used to be playful and active, now he spooks easily, and spends a lot of time hiding.
I took him to the vet this afternoon. Frodo has lost three pounds since he last saw the vet six months ago. He has on each side of his abdomen wounds that are most likely from another cat. There is an extra claw on each front foot between two toes. One has been broken off, and is now a healing stub. And he has fleas. We have antibiotics for his wounds, and we are feeding him kitten food to help put some weight back on. And we have some flea medication for all three cats. Other than that he is fine for his three month adventure.
We think of Steve often. We are so grateful to him for finding, taking care of and then returning Frodo to us. He did not have to do it. We have felt so bad for Steve that we have questioned if we did the right thing by taking Frodo back. Steve was very attached to him, but so were our kids who would not have understood for years if we had left Frodo with Steve. Hopefully Steve can understand that.
I am sure this story is far from over.
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