Elvis the Cat

Elvis the cat went missing last Thursday night. 

For 14 years Elvis the Cat lived with me indoors. He was afraid of the outside.  Due to kidney disease, he has been living on borrowed time but was still vibrant, fat and happy.  Lately, he seemed desperate to get outside.  I had been warned he might run away to die.    I searched for two days and nights, was sad, and began to look back ….

We met at a farm in 1999.  He was undernourished, with mites and fleas.  I was embarking on a new, independent life.  We knew instantly that we belonged to each other.  I nursed him back to life – physically, and he nourished my spirit. 

I didn’t hear him meow for the first few years of his life.  I always thought it was because I saw to his every need before he knew he had it.  At night, he would sleep curled in my arms.  If he heard a noise, he would perch on the end of my bed between me and a potential threat.  We took care of each other.

He was a rascal.  My hair bands became his favourite target in games of fetch.  One day, I answered the front door and discretely kicked a pair of my underwear away before the visitor could lay eyes on it.  Apparently Elvis had dragged it there, in an effort to stop me from packing for my latest business trip.

When I had kids, I had less time for Elvis.  Not because I loved him less than I had before, but because my babies needed me more.  He was not jealous of my babies but loved them as an extension of me – and a new generation of love affair with Elvis began.

When my daughter was about 4, she said, “Mommy – his name can’t be Elvis – there is only one of him.  We should call him Elvi.”  In the years that followed, no list of family members was complete without mentioning her beloved Elvi.  My gut ached at the thought of telling her that he was gone.

My son loved Elvis too but in a much more rambunctious way.  Through it all, Elvis remained patient and loving with the kids.  He continued to follow me around the house, even though I gave him very little of my attention.  I would be annoyed when he would behave like “Rooster Cat” by meowing me awake at 7:30 a.m. on a weekend.  I was frustrated when he would swarm around my feet on weekdays when I was rushing to get everyone fed and out the door for their day.  I had begun to take him for granted.

Late Saturday night, he came back.

For two days I had walked the streets calling his name.  Reports were made to the local pet associations.  Fliers were posted on mailboxes and hand delivered to immediate neighbours, when research suggested an indoor cat lost would likely be hiding within four-doors of home.  I posted notice on my local Mom’s group social media sites.  Neighbours and friends were walking the streets, checking their yards and providing support. Some local Mom’s messaged me from vacation retreats vowing to help me search when they returned - all for the love of Elvis the Cat.    

My kids and husband were away for a few days.  I was even more heart-broken anticipating their return to a house without Elvis and the pain his absence would deliver.  I was riddled with guilt that I had let him escape, and worse yet, had taken his affections for granted, in recent years.  Through my tears, late Saturday night, I sat on the back porch softly calling his name and willing him to return.  I found myself singing the song of his namesake.  “Are you lonesome tonight, do you miss me tonight, are you sorry we drifted apart ….. “  Corny, I know, but we go to strange places in grief. 

I had decided to leave the windows open on the main floor and sleep on the couch, in the off chance he returned.  As I was dozing I heard “meow”.  I imagined that sound more than a hundred times in the previous two days, and checked each time.  This time, it was him.  I could not believe it.  I had given up most of my hope.  When I opened the door he came in, scanned the room with caution, and came to me for a cuddle. 

I checked for injury and found none.  I fed him, then called my husband with the news, to which he replied, “Elvis is in the building”.  I notified all that had been searching and settled in for a night of cuddles with my old friend. Through my happy tears, I poured all my fear of losing him into loving him that night. 

One friend speculated as to which “Heartbreak Hotel” he had visited the last two nights.  We will never know.  I looked into his eyes and heard his essence calling “Love me Tender”, and I answered with – I will never take you for granted again.