I never thought I’d be doing this post. But that’s not really true. From the moment Rocky came into my life, I’ve been petrified he’d get out and I’d never see him again.
He’s been here for just over five years and only been outside three times. The first time, he was just about a year old and he ran from me. Finally, he went up the magnolia tree, and I managed to get him. Once he crosses the threshold of the door, it’s like he’s that feral kitten we trapped five years ago.
He escaped after the derecho in August, 2020. He ran from me then, but after Bob came out and I rattled a bowl of food, he calmed down a bit. When I picked him up, he clawed me and escaped again. I managed to get him and put him in the pet taxi though.
Monday evening, he escaped again. I saw him once, but he ran from me. He took off past the garage and out to pasture. I set a trap in the barn. When I went to check it before bed, I spotted him in a hole in the hay, but he was panicking and I didn’t want him to run, so I stepped back and went to get the pet taxi. I haven’t seen him since.
I don’t think he’ll be back. I swear it’s like I’ve held him prisoner for all these years and he’s always trying to find a way to sneak out and return to the feral life I rescued him from.
My heart is just breaking.