A pair of small yellow eyes greet me as I awake. Confidently, Bubble, my cat, plants his paws upon my chest. I feel a slight tingle as his claws pinch my skin ever so slightly. He wants out into the morning sun having chomped his way through the cat biscuits and wet food I left out for him the night before. I reach out a finger and rub along his cheek pouches. He purrs and tilts his head. I scratch under his chin and rub the top of his forehead with my thumb. Then he jumps off the bed, our morning ritual complete.
Bubble was bought by my ex partner and introduced into my living space without any meaningful discussion. Though I loved animals I had no desire to keep them as pets. I was, and still am, a keen observer of wildlife but living with an animal was not something I’d experienced. When I was younger, our family had a dog for a short period, a mongrel named Kim, but my mam did not feel comfortable with it and to much consternation and distress it was sent to live with someone else. Perhaps I just didn’t want to go through that again.
But my arm was twisted and a little bundle of black fur with a tiny white tuft just below the throat arrived to promptly hide behind the fridge,coming out only to wee and poo on the kitchen floor. Those first weeks seemed to confirm my preexisting thoughts about pets, namely they were more trouble than they were worth.
But strangely, despite my lukewarm attitude to him, he seemed to take a liking to me. He’d brush himself up against me and tolerate my reciprocal pat. Gradually, the ice thawed and I began to take an interest in him. I liked the way he moved, the effortless way he jumped on to things and his self cleaning techniques. He would still annoy me, attacking my protruding feet at the edge of the bed and yowling to be let out into the late night or early morning in pursuit of birds, mice or whatever he could lay his claws on.
At some point in those early days, he imprinted on me. That is to say, he’d come to recognise me as a parent or person of habitual trust. We became an integral part of each other’s day. For the vast majority of the seven years of Bubble’s life it has just been him and me. He has always maintained a healthy distance from most other homo sapiens save those that feed him and even then his warmth quickly subsides once the food is in his belly. He tolerated visitors to the house, especially the children and young people I’d tutor after school but he was in no way affectionate to them despite their willingness to befriend him.
But whenever I returned home, he would always come and greet me if he was outside. His tail would be bolt upright and he’d meander assuredly down the road on silent paws, a master mover. He would splash over onto his side and roll around, ever vigilant for dogs or strange people or even strange people with dogs. Bubble had always been a streetwise and savvy cat with a wariness of cars.
Bubble has been missing now for two weeks. He disappeared a week and a half after moving house.
He seemed to be adjusting after a few days of yowling. When I did let him out I kept him in my sight and he soon got his bearings. He climbed the high fence line that runs around the properties here and used it as a track around the perimeter of the residence adjacent to our house and as a spring board into long grasses in which he could hunt. Within a week he was coming and going as he pleased, his meowing detectable at both front and back doors.
But since Saturday the 6th of July, there has been no sign of him. I did not worry at first. Cats have their own agenda and Bubble is an experienced cat. He’s perfectly capable of catching his dinner and many people, attracted by his shiny black fur feed him in the hope of getting to know him. There are also people who dislike cats and would probably do him harm but I hope Bubble’s natural cautiousness and his animal instincts steer him clear of trouble.
Cat experts and people with a far greater understanding of cats then I, have told me there’s a strong chance he’ll find his way back. Friends, trying to comfort me, regale me with stories of cats having gone missing for weeks, and in some cases months, only for them to finally return as if nothing had happened. I will accept there is a chance of Bubble reappearing after his feline sabbatical but it seems to be growing more unlikely. Of course I’ve searched for him over fields and dales, by allotment and river, street and park forever calling his name. But as yet I’ve had no luck.
Since he has gone missing, it has been heartwarming just how many people have kept an eye out for him in the local area. Many of these people I don’t know, but they all seem to understand just how upsetting the loss of a pet /friend /family member can be. The unconditional love we have for our pets is a beautiful thing, something I’m so glad I have experienced. If I don’t get find Bubble, I will grieve like so many of you will have grieved for your pets but I wouldn’t swap the time I’ve had with him despite the sense of loss I’m currently feeling. His presence has been a light during some very dark days, his affection has soothed my anxiety when things have been tough and the connection I’ve had with him has enriched my life. Our pets can bring out the best in us. Bubble has shown me there’s a caring, loving person in me, someone who willingly accepts the responsibility of looking after something other than himself.
So thank you Bubble, come back soon because I love you and there’s a lot of cat food that’s going to waste.
If you do see Bubble you can contact me on 07584197778 or leave a comment here. He’s a 7 year old black male cat with some white hairs just below the neck. He has been neutered and chipped.
