A moment with my cat

Recently, we've been having a bit of a coyote problem. Last week, we lost a chicken to those dogs; they live on the far side of the golf course near our house. Suffice to say, when the feathers were found, we knew the animal was gone, and we all went on high alert.

Tonight, one of our cats, the female, Scout -- went missing.

I only noticed it right before I went to bed, 2:30am -- high hunting season for those creatures. It was not a good time to realize that she was missing.

I wandered around the house, I checked the kids beds again (and again), then I got a flashlight -- I'd go outside and shout for her. Sometimes, at our old house, my shouting would cue the cats to come bolting towards the house, out from under whatever bush or tree they were hiding, ears back, eyes wide -- running for their lives from the coyotes that used to live there. I figured a good shout would bring her home here just as well as it did back then.

Standing outside, I shouted her name. I did it a few times, with pauses, to try and communicate that I was still there -- that she could make a break for it. But nothing happened. I stood in the dark, beginning to unpack the bad ideas, the ones that you first try on with a skeptical mind to get ready.

I shouted some more -- then went inside. That's when I had a moment with my cat.

Boo, the male cat, looked at me with big eyes and immediately wanted to go outside.

At first, I was annoyed. "No, Boo, you are not going outside -- no way!"

I went to another door of the house and shouted, and he made a break for it.

Aaargh -- I thought ... great. Then I decided I was too bored and annoyed to care anymore -- if these cats wanted to go out and have this sort of trouble -- then ... no, no -- I did care.

So I went to another door, shouted some more, and headed outside again.

That's when Boo rolled up on the door, saw me, and gave me that stare. It's the "yes, idiot, we do know what's going on, there is a universal understanding between all the creatures in the universe, and you have to follow me right now" stare.

So, of course, I followed him. He ran off around the house. I followed. I figured as soon as I came around the corner, I'd startle him and I'd break out of my little fantasy, he's just a cat, and there had been no moment.

But he was waiting for me when I turned the corner, looking over his shoulder, and waiting.

"What is it, Boo? Where is she?"

He looked around in one area, sniffed a bit, as if maybe that made some sort of obvious sense to me; but of course I'm just a stupid hairless ape with no nose power -- so I was clueless.

He wasn't going to be deterred in the least -- he immediately turned and headed back the way we came. With intent. So I followed.

We came around the back of the house, and he considered going inside the door I'd left open. We went in for a second, but then I looked at him and gave him the stare right back -- "No, I'm gonna keep looking.", I said with my body and eyes.

So he turned around and walked right back out, rolled up next to me... we were a team -- the men of the house ... we're gonna find this cat.

I had the flashlight on, and we headed through the wooded alley behind our house, towards the back yard, he was never more than three feet from me, pacing me, checking corners, roaming out to the side, but not doing that standard "co-wander" thing cats do -- he was with me on this.

Just as we got to the back yard, I heard a mighty rustling, something big was running away from me. Could have been a raccoon, doubtful it was coyotes -- they sing too much. But this thing was big, it was crashing through the bush, and Boo had known it was there the whole time.

He'd actually intentionally lead me to it. Against his own better safety. In response to my shouting for Scout. He knew, he knew what to do, and he did it.

As we'd passed the door, he thought twice about going with me, but then decided to come with me -- and, knowing there was a monster in the back yard, he paced me anyway and we flushed this thing out together.

Then we were standing together in the back yard, me and my cat, owning that space, checking the corners with the flashlight, and sort of awkwardly pretending to each other that we hadn't just broken the sacred human/animal language barrier.

He checked some other places, never more than a few feet from me, never jumpy, never needy, never startled -- a co-searcher ... and then he basically suggested we head back to the front door of the house, since we'd done a full circuit and removed the danger -- which is why he'd directed me there. He knew she'd be safer now, now that he'd gotten me to scare the monster away -- a monster I couldn't see, only heard -- but he knew all about.

I looked around, shouted for Scout a few more times, and followed him to the door. We headed into the house. No meows at the door, no pacing to be let in -- we knew what we'd done, and it was time to get back inside. I opened the door, and he walked in with me.

I went to the food area and threw him a handful of dry kibble to say thanks... he seemed to appreciate that... now we'd wait -- he seemed strangely unperturbed after all that.

I did one more tour of the house, then went and closed the door I'd left open near the alley. I noticed that the motion-sensor light was still on, so I shouted once more.

A few minutes later, Scout appeared out of nowhere in the dining room.

Boo seemed to think that was good enough. I pet her for a minute or two, he sat and watched. I think we'll likely all go back to pretending we don't understand each other. But it was nice to have that moment with my 10 year old friend.