*Emily and Charlotte in happier times giving me the stink eye over an empty food bowl.*
It was now May. I was secured in a new rental and had been there almost a month. Emily was still yet to be found. I had plastered every single Facebook group in Cortez, local forums, veternarians offices, police stations and animal rescues within a 100 Mile radius with flyers containing Emily's pictures, description, and contact information if found.
(Part of April had been spent with my other two cats Merry and Charlotte camping out in my van in my sister's backyard. During that time, Merry had managed to sneak out of the van and gone missing most of one day, but appeared early that evening and after giving me chase, was safely back in the van. For that day, I had been in a full blown panic mode).
*Merry my other kitty who slipped out of my van, but who I caught later that same day.*
Around May 10th, my former neighbor responded to my post in one of the Facebook groups, telling me she had seen Emily up on her porch.
I emplorred her to allow a local rescue group to attempt safely trapping Emily, but the old neighbor wouldn't hear of it over concerns for the health and safety of their own old senior cat.
I contact the local sheriff's office who knocked on the old neighbor's door to plea my case. I was disabled and Emily was my therapy kitty. The old neighbors agreed to at least speak with the local rescue and hear what ways Emily could be safely trapped without risk to their senior kitty.
*Emily's flyer.*
I spoke with the local rescue to inform them of Emily's sighting and to beg, for the most part, for their help. They were on the tail end of a huge fundraiser, but said they would speak to the neighbors and attempt to safely trap Emily.
A week later I called about the trapping of Emily, only to be told the person overseeing her capture was out of town and wouldn't be back for two weeks. I would have to wait.
Wracked with guilt, anxiety and torment I found myself 2 nights later in the emergency room in dire need of help. Bouncing between anxiety attacks, grief, and depression, I was filled with suicide ideation over Emily. The pain was too much. I had failed her. I had left her behind; completely abandoned. Her suffering was no one's fault but mine.
My mental health issues obviously had reached a crisis point. The medications I had previously been taking hadn't worked for several months, and in order to avoid the interference of the drowsiness they caused me, the only thing they DID do, I had quit taking them.
After arguing with the ER Dr. over the seriousness of my situation, and that the help I needed was more then just "daily activity and routine", a mental health worker and psychiatrist we're brought in to help.
With new medications, support and therapy on board, I stabilized. However I still continued to try and search for Emily.
*The ever entertaining Emily in earlier days, "helping" me with a project."*
Emily's flyer in the groups were kept active, and I kept her "plight" alive with the police, shelters, vet doctors, and even the local pet stores. I contemplated going back and looking for her myself, and even to this day wish I had made the attempt, but at the time, in the overall picture, it didn't seem that that would really accomplish much or prove fruitful. Emily had not been seen for many many weeks.
By the end of July, after phone stalking the director of the local animal rescue, an attempt to finally trap Emily was made. One time. Just one. A drop trap was used in the early morning hours, but Emily wasn't even spotted in the area. The director called me afterwards to let me know the results. I was also informed that assisting owners with lost pet recovery was not their primary function, and that they had made an acception in my case. However they were only willing to attempt to trap Emily that once. After that, I was on my own.
Throughout the summer I reached out to var-ious pet detectives and groups that specialized in lost pet recovery. The advise given was helpful, and all resources still very supportive and hopeful that Emily could be recovered. However additional steps required both money and additional resources, neither of which I had. The only thing I did have was time, and with each passing day, Emily's return seemed unlikely.
In June, a new kitten came into my life. He was there as a support to help both me and Charlotte who was also having much difficulty with her sister missing and life as we now knew it.
Nikko Kitsune, Japanese for Sunshine Fox, was named so in part after Emily (Nikko being Japanese for sunshine). He was half Bengal and half Siamese, and proved to be adorable and highly entertaining. At times, a pest too. In no way was Nikko a replacement for Emily, but he reduced the loss and pain I felt, and kept Charlotte company and busy with the pesterings of a new younger brother.
*Baby Nikko.*
Merry, who had a dislike for all other cats, was not impressed with Nikko's introduction into our lives. She glared at me, questioning my sanity over this kitten addition, and probably wondering why it wasn't a dog instead.
Merry had a general preference for dogs. Not sure why, but it may have to do with the fact that all the pooches that passed through our doors, whether temp foster or permanent family members, minded their own business and left her well enough alone, verses the various cat members who pestered her and drove her nuts.
The summer passed and Nikko grew. By September, along with the support of family, pet dectives, various experts and my counselor, I had come to logically reason that most likely Emily, due to her adorableness and basic instinct to survive, had most likely found a new home. No evidence of her body or passing had ever been found. It was likely she had simply vanished.
October came, and I was busy preparing to have to move. Again. My lease was only 6 months, and the landlord I now had was kind and good, and had generously allowed me to use my damage deposit to stay another month. However, time was quickly running out. I had until November 11 to figure out another place to live that would also allow my cats.
Boxes were stroon everywhere half hazardly as the need to pack, *again*, became priority number one. I spent part of my days on the phone calling potential rentals, the other part denying my ever increasing anxiety and trying to focus on packing.
When things got real bad, talking with my sister and focusing on " the plan", helped.
One early October morning, after a night of "anxiety avoidance" by immersing myself in a jewelry making project, I was awoken to my phone ringing. It was a doctor's office calling to confirm some appointment. But while I was on the line, my phone persisted with chirps and tones.
Call completed, I checked my phone to see what the heck was going on. One of the volunteers with the Cortez animal rescue group was messaging me like crazy. I opened the message, and couldn't believe my eyes.
Emily has been found!!
# STAY TUNED FOR PART THREE!!! #
# You can find Part One Here! #
https://steemit.com/curie/@luanne/a-heroic-true-tale-of-two-kitties-part-i
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