Well, it’s been 17 days. I guess we’ve got 2 cats now. I’m not one to give up easily, but what else can I do? Either she’s dead or she’s lost. I can’t help either way. It sucks sucks sucks.
For a small cat, she ate a lot. I’ve noticed a big reduction in kibble consumption. I always said she had a worm. I miss my lil grey striped huntress. When I told Andy about all this, he reminded me that she used to follow Hobbes around when she was a baby lurking in our yard at Derrydown. It took us weeks to get her tame enough to come into the house and be petted.
She got her name from a cartoon, naturally. There is a small grey stray cat in Animaniacs called Rita who was always singing. We didn’t want to call her Rita because Andy’s family had several pets named Rita, so we decided to use the voice of Rita, Bernadette Peters. So, our tiny little cat got a very big name.
Bernadette never did give up her claim to being feral, right up to the last time I saw her – having dinner on the back porch. She would hesitate before coming into the house every time. It took a minimum of two tries for her to enter. If there was anything amiss, forget it. When she was outdoors, we couldn’t get near her. She’d run away like she’d never seen us before. I’m sure it was a game, but at least part of it was her feral roots. She’d have her dinner al fresco much of the time if the weather was good. Despite all this, she’d still come inside most nights and cuddle up on the couch and purr purr purr. What a sweet little cat!
This ended up being Bernie’s eulogy. And I am so very sad for that.
Thanks to everyone for all the support.