I found my cat, Buddy, when I lived in my first condo. One night I came home and parked outside, and I heard a quiet meowing. I called "kitty, kitty," and out he came. He let me pet him, so I assumed he had been someone's cat. Turns out he had on a collar with his street address, which happens to be at least two miles from that condo complex. I brought him some dry food and water and placed it in some bushes where he could eat and be safe. A few days later, he came out and meowed again, and I called to him. He came right up to me and let me pet him again. One day I saw him run into the basement across from my building, getting in through a broken window. I thought, well, at least he has a warm, dry place to shelter. I already had two cats, Gus and Max, and didn't think I should take in another. I took him to the Humane Society and they said they'd try to locate his owner. I drove by the address on his collar and noticed a building permit in the window. The tenants may have been forced to move out and perhaps couldn't take Buddy with them. I hoped they hadn't dumped him in my complex, but I can't imagine how he could get across several very busy downtown streets into my neighborhood. I try to think that they were taking care of him in their own way by leaving him where they did.
The Humane Society said they couldn't locate his owners so I said I would come and get him. For nine months, he wouldn't get close to me; he would sit in the hall near the living room and just look around. He was terrified of plastic bags, aluminum foil and anything else that rattled. One day he appeared at the foot of the couch and jumped up on my lap. Now he would live on my lap or in my arms like a baby if I let him. He has a very sweet nature, considering what he's been through. When I took him in, he had lost part of his tail and part of it was degloved. One of his eyes won't constrict completely, so he may have incurred some head trauma. He is now 15, has lost quite a few teeth, and takes two medicines a day. But he's happy and well-cared for. He and Max (my orange tabby) don't always get along, but when they do, it's a good day for everyone!
MADISON, WI
