Smut: Still Looking for You, Baby Boy ~ Pawprints and Purrs, Inc.

We'd been trying to trap Boopsie, one of the female feral kittens who was born 4-5 weeks before we'd moved back to Louisiana. She was the last of the three in her birth litter to be altered. I had trapped her before, but she was right at delivery so I reluctantly released her. The following day, June 27, 2000, she delivered her litter. She was barely 6 months old when she became pregnant.

She brought out her babies for the first time that I knew about on July 26 while I was mowing. I immediately stopped as soon as I saw them - four tiny four week old kittens - one male, three female. I scooped them up (yeah, right - it took me nearly three hours to get all four "scooped" up) and brought them inside. Late that same evening, little Boopsie walked back into the trap for spaying, just a tad over 8 months old. Boopsie disappeared from our feral colony in August 2001. Her mother, Teresa, disappeared in March 2001. It hurts so terribly to lose any of them.

The first kitten waddled straight up to me, no fear in his eyes at all. He was a tiny blob of smudgey black fur. I named him Smut. The other three kittens were Toffee, a lovely cream dilute tabby, and two almost identical gray and black striped tabbies. I named them Spic and Span.

George, Boopsie's brother, must have gotten to Boopsie just before he was trapped for neutering. Spic and Span are his spitting image. Smut's father is Sylvester, the dominant male of the neighborhood, who was VERY trap shy, but I managed to get him trapped late September, 2000. Syl is now a wonderful semi-tame feral who we call our patio cat.

Smut was into everything, the ringleader of the group - those four kittens were a handful. Smut was simply a fearless little tyke. But our sweet JacquiLee immediately took all four under her wing. She still grooms them, disciplines them, sleeps with them, and pretty much shares her space with them.

All of the kittens became, of course, house cats. We hand-raised them indoors since the day we took them from Boopsie. On occasion we let all of our cats outdoors for supervised outings. They love the outdoors and chase and play even though they all are now full-grown cats.

This year, we were extremely cautious about letting Smut outside. He's a beautiful black cat and the fears of the Halloween season came down heavily on us. Beginning in mid-September, we made absolutely sure that we didn't take him outside at all without both of us present until the first week of November.

But Tuesday evening, November 20, 2001, tragedy and great fear struck at our door and into our hearts. Craig opened the den door with an armload of trash. All the Kiddens were in the kitchen, supposedly eating their supper. Somehow without our knowledge, Smut managed to follow Craig and raced out the den door. I thought I saw a black blur shoot past Craig, and I ran past Craig screaming Smut's name. I saw him as he leaped our cyclone fence. It was dark and though we searched and called for over an hour before Craig went to bed, I kept at it until well after 2:00 a.m. the following morning. In the days since, we've knocked on every door within a three mile radius, tromped through woods and fields, climbed fences and checked in backyards, around barns and stables, and under and around storage buildings, decks, porches, etc. - no one will admit to even catching a glimpse of him.

Smut is overly friendly. His meeting no strangers is my worst nightmare. Smut is an all black cat with dark yellow eyes that appear pumpkin colored in some light. He can easily be lured to come to strangers with tidbits of food. This neighborhood isn't kind to animals; in fact, we have an old cretin who openly discusses trapping cats, hauling them to parts unknown, and dumping them. Of course, he emphatically denies seeing our little Smut.

All these days of searching - nothing, nada, zilch, zip. It's like Smut has never existed. There are flyers on every post and pole in a three mile radius of our home, I question people in our area daily, I stop what I'm doing during the day and search for blocks, sometimes miles, at least twice a day. And the gaping tear in my heart is growing bigger and bigger. I can't stop crying. If tears could bring him back, he would be paddling home in my own right this moment.

Don't let anyone ever tell you that a well-trained house cat can't and won't escape. It happens every day - just one "accident," one tiny bit of carelessness and a cat is gone, perhaps forever.

Smut, my darling little cat, I won't give up, I won't lose hope. I will continue to look for you. Please be safe, please know I'm searching for you. I love you, little Smutty-Butty.

IMPORTANT: The time frame of six to eight weeks before Halloween each year is extremely dangerous for all animals, but especially so for cats ... even more frighteningly dangerous should your cat be black. Please, PLEASE take those few moments each day taking additional precautions to make sure your cat(s) or other pet(s) is/are safe during this holiday season. Follow and promote safety precautions for animals, especially black cats, during the Halloween season and throughout the year. Smut is proud to be part of the educating team for The Remember Ninja Project: