Phantom Felines And Other Ghostly Animals - Gerina Dunwich 2006

The Orange Cat
Phantom Felines

by Kimberly Peats

My husband and I lived in an apartment complex with our teacup poodle named Trigger. He was smaller than a cat, so we did not have to pay a $100 per month pet fee. We lived there for about two years, then began building a home.

People moved in and out often, so I was not sure that the bright orange cat I saw being chased by children was homeless. I saw him being tormented the next day by some children and shooed them away from him; he ran from me.

It took a few days of coaxing and tuna for him to trust me enough to allow me to stroke him. He was skinny and dirty, but I loved him immediately. I allowed him to follow me to the apartment, but could not risk letting him in and someone turning us in for an increase in rent. I fixed him up a cardboard box with towels and food and water on the porch so he would have a place to stay until we finished building our house. He stayed near, but when I didn’t see him for three days, I began to worry.

I had the windows open and heard his cry. I stepped outside and found him dragging himself across the lawn and children again throwing rocks at him. Only this time, he could not escape. I chased the kids off yet again and once I saw the shape he was in, I called for my husband.

The cat’s legs were merely hanging on by threads and his scalp was barely attached to his head. He was a gruesome sight. We wrapped him in a clean towel and raced to the vet’s clinic. He purred contentedly all the way there and all throughout the exam. The vet confirmed our worst fear. The cat had been struck by a car a few days ago and must have crawled all the way home. His legs were broken and would have to be amputated. He would never walk again, and his scalp wound contained larvae that had begun to drill into his skull. Throughout this horrible news, the cat continued to purr and act as though nothing could be better.

Although the vet said he could possibly save two of the cat’s limbs, there could be no guarantee of his leading a normal life without brain damage. Furthermore, the cost for this care would be nearly $1,500. My husband and I agreed we could not afford that amount, but we felt we were responsible since he spent three days crawling home to us, enduring agony I could not fathom. It was the idea that he might not live a life full and worthy to a cat that made us choose to have him put to sleep. He had a lot of hugs and kisses, and both my husband and I rode home with a heavy heart. We felt completely guilty; had we only allowed him in the apartment he would not have suffered.

A few days later, I took the garbage out to the dumpster where I heard the cat’s distinct meow. I thought to myself, Cat, you’re okay! I turned to greet him and realized he was not there. Nothing was there. I figured it was my guilt. I went home and did not mention it to my husband.

Yet another few days later, my husband went outside to use the common barbecue grill, and he heard the cat’s meow. He reached to greet him and realized the cat was not with us anymore. Later that night I awoke to a warm, purring spot on the bed. I rolled over to give it a good-night pat and realized we did not have a kitty in our bed!

We have had no more visits from the cat since that night. I think he just wanted to say “thank you” to us for letting him go home finally, where he was wanted and loved, and would see us again someday.