Wilson
More than two years ago I semi-adopted one of the stray cats that hang around my home. He doesn’t have an official owner, so I feed him almost daily and keep his dish outside my door. He always comes running to greet me when I go out front to check the mail, and then he and I walk back to the door together. I prepare his food and then sit with him while he eats, making sure the other cats don’t come and muscle him away from his bowl. Sometimes he comes in the house and just hangs for a while, but I know he prefers the outdoors.
For a long time, I just called him Kitty. He didn’t seem to mind the generic name. After a while I began calling him Wilson, after the volleyball character in Tom Hank’s Cast Away. He appeared to like his new name and it seemed to match his personality, and our relationship is somewhat similar to the one that Hank’s character had with the volleyball.
For the past six days, I haven’t seen Wilson. This is the longest period of time that he has been gone since he and I became buddies. I’ve looked all over for him, walking up and down the street and calling his name. Each day when I go to get the mail, I look around to see him, but he doesn’t come. It’s frustrating because I don’t know if someone took him or if he is hurt or somehow got lost or worse.