Sherlock, an older black cat with golden eyes that more then knew life. He came to my courtyard one day several months ago with a very small kitten in tow. At the time I didn’t know his situation although asking around for days, I finally learned he had been turned to the streets when his owner passed. Her daughter treating him no better then the rubbish she cleared out of the house and soon put on the market. More focus on the money and what she was getting then the life of a cat that brought something to her Mother. Dreadful in my book however how it seems to be in this small town where I have been trapped for way too long now.
So as it goes with animal lovers, I began feeding him along with the kitten. He was so kind to the kitten, letting him eat as much as he wanted then finishing off what was left. So one dish, one bowl became two dishes, two bowls. They became familiar with the feeding schedule and showed up for those times. Other times hanging out in the courtyard or wandering off to find something else, whatever that something else was.
Soon the kitten was getting a bit brave without the experience or knowledge of the danger that existed. He began sitting in the middle of the street that people use as a speedway from the stop sign on down the street. Mostly redneck guys in their trucks who have to squeal tires as they peel out from the stop sign, gaining speed as they pass my house. It wasn’t safe for even the most experienced cat, dog or person, much less for a small kitten of about 6 weeks old. So as animal lovers do, I brought him inside hoping I would find a home for him.
Of course homes are difficult to find. Very difficult to find. People say they will pass the word around yet I know that is only lip service. Other people who help animals are always maxed out with little to no help finding homes either. Yet I kept hope. Months have passed though and he is still here.
Sherlock remained outside even though he really wanted to come in. I just had too many others and felt I needed to do what I could to help him yet not bring him in to be with the others. Something I now really regret. I fed him good food as the others got, twice a day. Talked with him, befriended him. Sometimes he didn’t want to be friendly so I respected that and let him be. Other times he liked to have his back brushed, then rubbed.
I had high hopes of finding him a home. I contacted all the rescue people I knew and put out the word that he needed a home. People who could have taken him, wouldn’t and the months passed. Then one day a woman said she would take him. I was reluctant because she seems so blasé about everything….everything. I sent an email to a woman who lives in my area and who is a good pet person asking if she would take him. Feeling that if she let him out, he would know the area and be safe. She declined however said the woman who said she would take him would be a really good choice.
So on the night when Sherlock decided to go in the carrier after his dinner, I phoned her to come for him. She came after some time. My heart broke though when she placed the carrier in the cargo of her SUV and closed the door in his face. I wanted to stop her and take him back. I had no place to keep him safe inside though. Most of the rooms of my house are taken by other cats, so no place that he could have as his own while he adjusted to a new life. She had a big house, money and could easily give him a good life if she wanted. If she wanted becomes the key to this.
A few days later I checked on him and she said he wasn’t happy. I offered a few suggestions that if she had followed, I doubt there would have been the issue that exist today. Within a few hours later of that email, he was let out to what is a heavy, thicket type area. The briar patch.
I wasn’t told and only found out three days later because I asked about him. So I began the quest of trying to find him in all the thickness of the area. Each day going out and doing my best to find him. I know in my heart it is just too much effort for her to be bothered. That is evident by her lack of communication. My inquiries about him either go unanswered are met with a single word reply…well maybe a complete sentence that offers little. I have asked for help. None comes. I contacted everyone in the area, she did not. I contacted the fire department made up of volunteers for the area. I have called everyone I know to look, spread the word asking for help to find him.
It is now almost ten days and he has only been seen once which was the Sunday after let out on Wednesday. Now to try to get any response from this woman is like trying to change the weather.
It is a life and one she jeopardized. It is unacceptable to me for someone to just drop the ball and walk away without a care in the world about what they have caused or the need to help. It has been the way in this small town. People start something, then it becomes a bit of work, or a challenge and they just drop things for someone else to either pick up the pieces or the pieces lay broken with no resolution. This is a life though. A cat that deserves better.
The nonchalant mindset of “he’ll be ok. He is black. There are trees to climb so he will be safe from predators. There are lizards and plenty of mice for him to have food. There are water bowls out and ponds for him to have water. So he will be fine.” I want to scream at her and say no he won’t. He is older and he should not be so casually tossed aside like his life doesn’t matter.
People are treated the same way in this town. As long as things go as is wanted and as long as one can offer money, all is fine. Once that changes then they are tossed aside as well. I have never encountered so much lack of responsibility or caring. I have lived several places and have never previously experienced the mindset. It makes life very burdensome and challenging to try to have to constantly pick up the pieces of what others have left broken with so little care.
Now there is Sherlock. A little life that should have mattered. That now is faced daily with survival. Not be able to totally relax ever. Sleeping with his eyes half open so that he is aware of what is approaching. Food is not prevalent and has to be repeatedly sought just to keep going. There is no home. No comfort zone. No future of love. Just a toss aside life by very uncaring people.
I have to face the fact, that I may not find him. Help is just not something these people get. Responsibility is not something these people get. Oh sure they probably pay their bills and are supportive of their tight little circle however beyond that why bother, right. Especially if someone else will take care of it. And if you don’t begin to help or be responsible then of course someone else will take care of picking up the pieces especially when those pieces put together are a life.
My hope is vanishing and my heart is heavy. I will never understand the people of this town. There are a few nice ones yet the overall game is a lack of caring. A lack of responsibility. A lack of communication. Unfortunately this time around it has been costly for Sherlock and I so regret sending him with such an uncaring, non communicative and blasé woman. So regret it.
I will keep trying though and at some point, if I can not find him, then I will have to give up. Yet he deserves to be sought. He deserves so much better then what this woman gave him. And so it is with people. Those tossed aside because things are not perfect with them.
When will life become important again. Life of all living things. When will people have high regard for others, for a cat like Sherlock. When will the caring happen. It is so very needed and for right not, it is what Sherlock needs. As do so many others.
Can we not come together, communicate. Be kind. Be caring. Be considerate. Be responsible. It really doesn’t take that much to do any of those things. In the hope for Sherlock, may this happen.