I wouldn't be surprised if a very large part of the grief isn't caused simply by the uncertainty of knowing whether her cat is alright, if he has found a home, perhaps picked up by a (Guess what followed me home!) kid, or if he's lying somewhere in need. It's a tough one, and sometimes there simply are no answers. (Heck, I still miss a dog that I had to put to sleep more than 30 years ago.)

When I was a teen in the 50's rurals of Virginia, most nights after my work was done, I went walking in the dark and with a flashlight in hand which I rarely used, perhaps only to roll under a fence between pastures and woods.

Rarely, maybe never, did I meet a dog in the woods and pastures but I petted many a cat. I'm sure that if I had tried I could have taken home a number of them.

I hope Timmy will come strolling in soon, a smug you'll-never-guess-where-I've-been look on his face.