I’ve been terribly concerned about Chira.  He once was a regular fixture around here.  His multiple visits each day for several months were predictable and welcomed.  Then he stopped showing up.  It was a sudden change, an abrupt modification of our ritual.  After that, I would see him occasionally, sometimes more than once a day, but rarely more than once every month or two.

As I told Jenny some time ago, I hoped he had been adopted by someone who was taking care of him and feeding him, and that was why he no longer visited me as he once did.  It was either that or he was sick and/or hurt.  Today I got my answer.

I had fed the outside cats around six this morning and dallied inside as I was not in a hurry to go anywhere.  Sure, coffee was beckoning, but I was playing with The Kids after brushing my teeth and getting partially dressed and figured I’d find my way to Starbucks eventually.  As I lay on the bedroom floor playing with my own cats after watching some of the outside felines grab some breakfast, I heard a thump from outside and turned to see Chira on the patio.  It’s a cold and blustery morning and he was wasting no time doing his thing—whatever that happened to be.  By the time I stood and went to the window, he was already at the other end of the patio.  He leaped to the top of the fence and it was then I got a good look at him.  He was wearing a collar.  Because he promptly jumped down and ran off around the corner, I can’t be sure if it was a flea collar or a regular collar, but the fact that he was wearing one meant someone had taken him in and was caring for him.

I’m thrilled.  Chira’s a very sweet and laid back cat.  I had seriously considered adopting him after he started hanging around, and I even implemented a plan to capture him.  But then he vanished and seldom visited.  At least now I know he’s being taken care of and I don’t have to be so worried about him anymore (although I still worry since he’s outside).