ALBERT: It's Time To Let Him Go...................

Tonight I sit down to write a message that, somehow, I knew I was
eventually going to write, even though I have dreaded it: I am
officially abandoning my search for Albert, my beautiful indoor-only
cat, who disappeared from my house on July 16 after my wife left the
back door unlocked and our hyperactive toddler son let him slip out of
the door without telling us.

As of tonight (August 14), Albert, my cat--my beloved little boy--who
was born in my house 3 years ago and has never been outside of it
except for some recent escape attempts, has been missing just over four
full weeks. And although I have received a few calls from people who
say they have seen him-one call came as recently as three days
ago-I am now convinced that all of the sightings have been for
another cat.

I know there are those people who will say I must have faith, and that
at least some of those sightings may have been Albert. But I must pay
attention to what I feel inside of me, and it is something I have felt
almost since the beginning-I feel at this point that Albert is not
only far away from my house, but also that he is most likely dead or
dying. If there is any hope at this point, it is hope that somehow
Albert has found another home where someone can love him and take care
of him the way I used to.

Why am I so sure that Albert is gone? Well, he just never fit the
pattern of the typical stray indoor-only cat. Most of the time, you
hear about indoor-only cats that somehow find themselves
outside-sometimes by pure accident. Albert wasn't like that-he
WANTED to go outside. DEFINITELY wanted it. DESPERATELY wanted it.
For the past 6 or 7 months, he made every attempt to escape outside
whenever he had half a chance. It got to the point where you
couldn't leave or enter the house without watching your feet to see
if Albert was trying to run past you. It got to the point where Albert
spent all of his time, sitting by the door and meowing very loudly.
There is even a bald spot on the front door where he constantly
scratched it to try to get out!

Another reason I know Albert is gone has to do with how much ground he
covered so early in his journey. I will never know why Albert suddenly
decided that he wanted to go outside, but when my son finally gave him
his chance, he RAN. The last absolutely positive sighting of Albert
was in the early hours of July 17, where a man returning home from his
night job saw Albert by his house. THIS MAN LIVES TWELVE HOUSES AWAY
FROM ME. Albert had gone this distance after only a few hours of being
free!

When Albert left my house, I was absolutely devastated (still am), but
I tried my best to do "all the right things" in order to bring him
back. I put large neon yellow signs EVERYWHERE around my neighborhood.
I went door-to-door talking to everyone on my block, giving them a
flyer with a photo of Albert. I stuffed flyers in mailboxes for two
blocks in every direction. I even got yelled at by a mailman for doing
it! I put Albert's used kitty litter all over my front and back
yards. I put out food for a few nights, but my neighbor's cat simply
ate all of it as soon as I put it out.

About a week after Albert left, I got a couple of traps-one I rented
from an animal welfare agency, and one I bought myself. I got
permission to trap from some neighbors who lived right in the middle of
the area where most of the sightings took place. I put the traps in
that area, but night after night, I caught NOTHING. I did catch a
couple of cats here and there, but of course, they weren't Albert. I
started to get desperate and started putting the traps wherever I could
find a vacant house. Again, no luck. I started to get tired of having
such bitter disappointment every morning when I went to check the
traps.

So today, I made the decision that I had desperately been putting off.
I decided to face the fact that Albert is gone forever, and therefore I
must stop wasting any more time searching for him.

Today, I called the animal welfare agency and made arrangements to
bring them the traps. Not only did I give them their trap back, but I
also donated the trap that I bought. You all might think it's corny,
but on the trap that I bought, I engraved the words "IN MEMORY OF
ALBERT". I told the lady at the agency that, although Albert never
came home, maybe in some small way his trap might help someone else
come home.

In a strange way, engraving the trap gave me a small amount of comfort.
It's almost as if I now have proof that Albert did not die in vain.
In some small way, Albert can help someone else out. In other words,
his escape now has a positive side that diminishes, just a little bit,
the overwhelming negative side.

Grief is a strange thing. I have constantly thought about Albert ever
since he left, and I play senseless little mind games with myself in
order to try to maintain some connection with him. For example, I took
a CD off the shelf the other day to play in my car. I said to myself,
"The last time I heard this CD, Albert was with me." I will put a
shirt on, and I will remember the last time I wore it, remembering
Albert curled up on my chest as I relaxed on the sofa watching TV. I
look at certain spots on the floor where Albert used to relax. I can
almost see him right there in front of me right this minute. Typing
this has filled my eyes with tears. (I won't even tell you all how
many tears I have cried since Albert left.)

I have a recording studio in my house, and the day before Albert left,
he was with me in the studio as I recorded this woman giving French
lessons. Albert had been making too much noise just outside the studio
door so I let him come into the studio to sit on my lap during the
recording. Albert loved me very much and was very affectionate, and
the entire time the woman was recording, Albert sat in my lap and
purred. It just so happens that the expensive microphone I was using
is very sensitive, and it actually picked up Albert's purring! The
other day, I sat in my studio and listened to the recording of the
French lessons, just so I could hear Albert purring in the background.
I will never erase that recording. Thank God he was there to leave his
little voice for me to hear! It's all that's left now.

I have so many emotions right now. On one hand, I'm angry at my
wife's carelessness. She's a careless person in general, but it
has always been something I can deal with, even to the point of loving
her for it. Living with her is like living in an episode of "I Love
Lucy"-she's always making little situations that I have to clean
up. But this time, her carelessness has caused a genuine loss, maybe
even ended a life, and I don't know how to deal with the anger I feel
toward her for it. Even now, at this late date. I know I shouldn't
feel that way. After all, she didn't mean for this to happen. But
I'm angry nonetheless, and I will resent her for this for a long,
long time. I try to keep my anger hidden from her, but she knows how
I'm feeling.

I am also bewildered. Why did Albert want to go outside so badly? Did
he make up his mind that he just didn't want to be our cat anymore?
Were we doing something wrong? I know not to take what Albert did
personally, but when I think of him alone and starving out there, I
can't help but wonder how he could leave the love and security of our
house so far behind. Of the three cats we had, Albert was by far the
most affectionate, and I guess it is this fact that makes his leaving
all the more upsetting and impossible to figure out.

Of course, deep, wounding sadness fills my heart, but I am also
overwhelmed with longing. I long to see Albert, just one more time.
Heck, I would even be satisfied with a fleeting glimpse, as long as I
knew it was him. I long to know what has happened to him. Is he
alright? Is he being cared for? Or is he dead in a ditch somewhere?
Has he been hit by a car? Does he miss us? Does he even know we
exist? Does he know where his house is? I long to know these things,
and with them all I long for closure. Of course, I know I will never
get it, which only adds to my sadness.

I am, above all, realistic. I know my life will go on, as it must.
Time passes, as it always does, and we go on with our lives--we even
get other pets. A couple of weeks ago, we adopted Princess, a lovely
female long-haired black/white cat from an animal welfare agency, and
she has become a part of our family that I grow to love more and more
each day. But in a very real way, I am scarred for life over this. In
a very real way, I will, never, ever get over losing Albert. There
will always be a great emptiness in my heart whenever I think of him.
I will always love that little fellow, and my heart is with him
wherever he may be, dead or alive.

Good Night, Albert. Your Dad & Mum love you and are thinking of
you...always.

I am so sorry about Albert. It must be heartbreaking to lose a pet. I have
two cats, a kitten and a dog, and I worry everyday about losing them. You
have my sympathy and my prayers that Albert will return to you.
As for the fellow who replies to your post with about as much sensitivity as
a cactus, please just ignore him. I don't know weather he meant to be so
harsh, but if he didn't, he seriously needs to evaluate his writing skills.
If I may, I would like to maybe shed a little light on what might be the
reason Albert left, but please don't think I'm criticising you.
I believe that cats can quite happily be outdoor or indoor cats, but it seems
from all the escape attempts that your Albert wanted to be the former. He
wanted to be able to go outside, make friends, chase butterflies, etc.
However, I completely understand why you did not want to let him out into the
world. When my two cats were younger, I kept them inside, and I, like you,
had to constantly watch where they were when I went out the door. When I
moved into a house with a cat flap last year, I had no choice about it and
although the first couple of weeks I spent all my time at the back door
calling them back to make sure they hadn’t wandered too far or been hurt, I
now quite happily let them go to and fro. They are much happier cats, in fact,
they spend most of their time indoors, because they know if they fancy a walk,
they can pop out when they want to.
It’s possible that the reason Albert is reluctant to return might be because
he is afraid that once back in the house, he won’t be allowed back out again.
He could be just enjoying his freedom for a few weeks. I doubt he has been
run over, as a cat who has been kept inside all his life would probably be
terrified of the sound of a car, as my cats were, and would run a mile in the
opposite direction upon hearing one.
Chances are, Albert is living quite happily in another house, and although I
know that this hurts, and you’d much rather have him in your house, have
comfort in knowing that at least he’s probably safe and well.
You say yourself that you made mistakes with Albert, but that’s ok. How would
people learn if they didn’t make mistakes? There’s nothing wrong with fearing
for your cat’s safety, you just didn’t realise that you were letting his
safety get in the way of his happiness, as did I with my two. Please don’t
think I’m criticising, if my new house hadn’t had a flap, I’d probably still
be trying to keep my lads inside, and if I was trying to keep my eyes on two
cats and an extremely fast kitten every time I tried to leave the house, I
would have lost one of them by now, as I nearly did today when my kitten (who
is much too young to go outside by himself yet) jumped out the window and I
spent half an hour chasing him around the garden trying to get him back in!
You don’t say weather you let your new cat go outside or not. I imagine that
after losing Albert, you would be even more afraid to let her out, but if you
find that she, like Albert, is constantly trying to escape, I hope you learn
from the mistake that so many of us loving cat owners make, and let her
outside. If you yourself pick her up and carry her outside and maybe sit in
the garden with her while she explores, she’ll know then that you are
allowing her to be outside, and she will come back.

I hope you did not think I was criticising, I wish you every happiness with
your new cat.

:-)

Cara:

Thanks for the kind words and advice. I really appreciate the time you
took to talk to me.

I am still hoping that Albert has not found a new home just yet,
because I know that he is still around the neighborhood somewhere, and
I just want to have a chance to get him back...somehow.

Of course, if he did find a new home, it is MUCH better than the
alternative of starving to death or being run over by a car!

One problem I have is that there are a few houses in my immediate area
that leave food out for stray cats. I'm glad that Albert has a food
source, but I wonder if it reduces the chance of Albert wandering back
onto my property to sample the food that I've been leaving out.

I am so sorry to read of your loss, I cannot imagine what it has been like
for you.

Be strong, try to forgive your wife over time, Albert would have got out of
the house one way or another if he was so determined.

My thoughts are with you.




EADGBE wrote:
Tonight I sit down to write a message that, somehow, I knew I was
eventually going to write, even though I have dreaded it: I am
officially abandoning my search for Albert, my beautiful indoor-only
cat, who disappeared from my house on July 16 after my wife left the
back door unlocked and our hyperactive toddler son let him slip out of
the door without telling us.

As of tonight (August 14), Albert, my cat--my beloved little boy--who
was born in my house 3 years ago and has never been outside of it
except for some recent escape attempts, has been missing just over four
full weeks. And although I have received a few calls from people who
say they have seen him-one call came as recently as three days
ago-I am now convinced that all of the sightings have been for
another cat.

I know there are those people who will say I must have faith, and that
at least some of those sightings may have been Albert. But I must pay
attention to what I feel inside of me, and it is something I have felt
almost since the beginning-I feel at this point that Albert is not
only far away from my house, but also that he is most likely dead or
dying. If there is any hope at this point, it is hope that somehow
Albert has found another home where someone can love him and take care
of him the way I used to.

Why am I so sure that Albert is gone? Well, he just never fit the
pattern of the typical stray indoor-only cat. Most of the time, you
hear about indoor-only cats that somehow find themselves
outside-sometimes by pure accident. Albert wasn't like that-he
WANTED to go outside. DEFINITELY wanted it. DESPERATELY wanted it.
For the past 6 or 7 months, he made every attempt to escape outside
whenever he had half a chance. It got to the point where you
couldn't leave or enter the house without watching your feet to see
if Albert was trying to run past you. It got to the point where Albert
spent all of his time, sitting by the door and meowing very loudly.
There is even a bald spot on the front door where he constantly
scratched it to try to get out!

Another reason I know Albert is gone has to do with how much ground he
covered so early in his journey. I will never know why Albert suddenly
decided that he wanted to go outside, but when my son finally gave him
his chance, he RAN. The last absolutely positive sighting of Albert
was in the early hours of July 17, where a man returning home from his
night job saw Albert by his house. THIS MAN LIVES TWELVE HOUSES AWAY
FROM ME. Albert had gone this distance after only a few hours of being
free!

When Albert left my house, I was absolutely devastated (still am), but
I tried my best to do "all the right things" in order to bring him
back. I put large neon yellow signs EVERYWHERE around my neighborhood.
I went door-to-door talking to everyone on my block, giving them a
flyer with a photo of Albert. I stuffed flyers in mailboxes for two
blocks in every direction. I even got yelled at by a mailman for doing
it! I put Albert's used kitty litter all over my front and back
yards. I put out food for a few nights, but my neighbor's cat simply
ate all of it as soon as I put it out.

About a week after Albert left, I got a couple of traps-one I rented
from an animal welfare agency, and one I bought myself. I got
permission to trap from some neighbors who lived right in the middle of
the area where most of the sightings took place. I put the traps in
that area, but night after night, I caught NOTHING. I did catch a
couple of cats here and there, but of course, they weren't Albert. I
started to get desperate and started putting the traps wherever I could
find a vacant house. Again, no luck. I started to get tired of having
such bitter disappointment every morning when I went to check the
traps.

So today, I made the decision that I had desperately been putting off.
I decided to face the fact that Albert is gone forever, and therefore I
must stop wasting any more time searching for him.

Today, I called the animal welfare agency and made arrangements to
bring them the traps. Not only did I give them their trap back, but I
also donated the trap that I bought. You all might think it's corny,
but on the trap that I bought, I engraved the words "IN MEMORY OF
ALBERT". I told the lady at the agency that, although Albert never
came home, maybe in some small way his trap might help someone else
come home.

In a strange way, engraving the trap gave me a small amount of comfort.
It's almost as if I now have proof that Albert did not die in vain.
In some small way, Albert can help someone else out. In other words,
his escape now has a positive side that diminishes, just a little bit,
the overwhelming negative side.

Grief is a strange thing. I have constantly thought about Albert ever
since he left, and I play senseless little mind games with myself in
order to try to maintain some connection with him. For example, I took
a CD off the shelf the other day to play in my car. I said to myself,
"The last time I heard this CD, Albert was with me." I will put a
shirt on, and I will remember the last time I wore it, remembering
Albert curled up on my chest as I relaxed on the sofa watching TV. I
look at certain spots on the floor where Albert used to relax. I can
almost see him right there in front of me right this minute. Typing
this has filled my eyes with tears. (I won't even tell you all how
many tears I have cried since Albert left.)

I have a recording studio in my house, and the day before Albert left,
he was with me in the studio as I recorded this woman giving French
lessons. Albert had been making too much noise just outside the studio
door so I let him come into the studio to sit on my lap during the
recording. Albert loved me very much and was very affectionate, and
the entire time the woman was recording, Albert sat in my lap and
purred. It just so happens that the expensive microphone I was using
is very sensitive, and it actually picked up Albert's purring! The
other day, I sat in my studio and listened to the recording of the
French lessons, just so I could hear Albert purring in the background.
I will never erase that recording. Thank God he was there to leave his
little voice for me to hear! It's all that's left now.

I have so many emotions right now. On one hand, I'm angry at my
wife's carelessness. She's a careless person in general, but it
has always been something I can deal with, even to the point of loving
her for it. Living with her is like living in an episode of "I Love
Lucy"-she's always making little situations that I have to clean
up. But this time, her carelessness has caused a genuine loss, maybe
even ended a life, and I don't know how to deal with the anger I feel
toward her for it. Even now, at this late date. I know I shouldn't
feel that way. After all, she didn't mean for this to happen. But
I'm angry nonetheless, and I will resent her for this for a long,
long time. I try to keep my anger hidden from her, but she knows how
I'm feeling.

I am also bewildered. Why did Albert want to go outside so badly? Did
he make up his mind that he just didn't want to be our cat anymore?
Were we doing something wrong? I know not to take what Albert did
personally, but when I think of him alone and starving out there, I
can't help but wonder how he could leave the love and security of our
house so far behind. Of the three cats we had, Albert was by far the
most affectionate, and I guess it is this fact that makes his leaving
all the more upsetting and impossible to figure out.

Of course, deep, wounding sadness fills my heart, but I am also
overwhelmed with longing. I long to see Albert, just one more time.
Heck, I would even be satisfied with a fleeting glimpse, as long as I
knew it was him. I long to know what has happened to him. Is he
alright? Is he being cared for? Or is he dead in a ditch somewhere?
Has he been hit by a car? Does he miss us? Does he even know we
exist? Does he know where his house is? I long to know these things,
and with them all I long for closure. Of course, I know I will never
get it, which only adds to my sadness.

I am, above all, realistic. I know my life will go on, as it must.
Time passes, as it always does, and we go on with our lives--we even
get other pets. A couple of weeks ago, we adopted Princess, a lovely
female long-haired black/white cat from an animal welfare agency, and
she has become a part of our family that I grow to love more and more
each day. But in a very real way, I am scarred for life over this. In
a very real way, I will, never, ever get over losing Albert. There
will always be a great emptiness in my heart whenever I think of him.
I will always love that little fellow, and my heart is with him
wherever he may be, dead or alive.

Good Night, Albert. Your Dad & Mum love you and are thinking of
you...always.

Hello I am very sorry for your loss - I know how you feel and it's
never easy.
I know you did nothing wrong it was in his nature to want to be free
and free he is and happy he is.
I'm sure he knows where he's from and where the love is and perhaps
intime when he's ready to settle down he will return.
He means no harm but can only think of himself and his love for the
outdoors . I believe animals have personality just like people. Some
require a lot of attention, close to people always while others are
very independent. He's taking care of himself as he wishes and this you
must do for yourself too now.
Everything happens for a reason and just like people he'll remember the
love he felt there and I wouldn't be surprised if he shows up meowing
at your door even months from now.
Sometimes my cat would run away real fast from the house when the door
opened because he knew he would get in trouble if he just stepped out
and I would catch him. So he would bolt out the door! And I could never
catch him. If I chased him he would run futther. At one point he
disappeared for a week and I was devasted I thought I shouldn't have
chased after him. ANyway he returned and from then on I put him outside
on a leash only while I sat with him. THen he felt at ease - he could
have the best of both worlds. If he got out I wouldn't chase him, I'd
just sit on the step and talk nicely and call him and he'd enjoy my
company and come back. Now if I open the door he doesn't try to bolt
out, he'll just hang around the doorway because he knows he's not
trapped and he doesn't have to feel he has to escape.
All the best to you and know you've everything you can, he would have
gotten out at some point anyway and the rest is in Alberts hands and u
have to trust that he's happy no matter where he is.
JQ