I had a cat once that a girlfriend brought home. It was living wild but she easily caught it because it was sick, crawling with fleas and probably starving. And it was a young kitten. She took it to the vet and got it cleaned up and made well again. When it was old enough we had her spayed.

We lived in a two bedroom apartment and knew if we let The White Cat out the door we'd probably never see her again. So we kept her in and ntertained her as best we could. She let us pet her and play with her. She loved her toys and was perfectly willing to occupy a room with us. Her favorite game was chasing pennies we rolled along the floor. I decided she must be a Republican considering her penchant for cash. Another favorite game was chasing soap bubbles.

But she never became a loving cat who would climb into your lap. She enjoyed being petted and I could pick her up and hold her for a short time but she'd rather be on her own four feet.

When my girlfriend left she didn't take the cat. That cat was my comforter through a pretty hard time though there were never any instances of holding her or hugging her like a stuufed toy. She wouldn't put up with any of that. Eventually she got to where she would sit on the couch with me but never close enough that I could stroke her for very long.

During the day she would sit on the window sills and watch the world go by. It did that at high speeed with cars whizzing down the road. I knew that she would be a target if she went out there. There were dogs and children and cars and who knows what to end her life. But I also knew that she really wanted to be out there, hunting and doing cat things. She was never completely happy as an indoor cat.

My next girlfriend was allergic to her. At first that was only an inconvenience but as we moved closer and closer to living together and marriage I realized I would have to do something about The White Cat.

I took her to the farm. At some point each of us kids have given an animal to our parents to care for. The farm was isolated enough that The White Cat could become the outdoor cat she wanted to be.

At first she was very skittish in her new location. There were three dogs living in the house as well as three or four cats. It took her a week to explore the house. But then she discovered that the outer doors would open for her and she could go outside. The way my parents describe it she was beside herself with excitement. She spent every waking hour outdoors. They saw her exploring the edges of the yard where the grass becomes hayfield. They saw here pussyfooting through the wreckage of what had been a barn. She was happy at last.

Then she disappeared.

She was gone at least ten days before my mother called with the news that they thought she was dead. She'd been gone too long. I told them I had expected something like this and not to worry. If she was dead she'd died where she had needed to be for so long. I told her not to worry. I felt bad but I knew it was for the best.

And two days later she turned up again, skinny, dirty, and perfectly willing to be an indoor cat for a while. She ate well, and lazed around, cat fashion, building up her strength. And then she disappeared again.

This time she was gone at least two weeks before Mom called me to pass on the news. Once more I reassured her that it was OK and not to worry.

Then, a little while later, Dad went down to the spring to get water for his aquarium. And he saw The White Cat hunting in the woods, making her own way around, quite happy and completely uninterested in anything he had to offer. He called her and she just watched him for a while and then disappeared into the brush.

No one has seen her since. She probably didn't survive the winter. It was a rough one. I went up in October, after my relationship died, and walked the woods calling for her. She wasn't responding.

I suppose she could still be up there, hunting and making her way through the world. Or she could be gone for good. But I know she was where she had to be. I know she was as happy as she could be. I am satisfied I did the right thing releasing her into the wild.

She was The White Cat and she will live in my memories for a long time.