These are my babies: Niamh (white) and Freya (tabby). Freya showed up on the porch one day, and Niamh was found at the Humane Society, sporting the stereotypical name Princess. We soon fixed that. They're now seven years old, and I haven't seen them for two and a half years, as they live with my former husband, M. I miss them terribly.I will eventually be in the market for new furchildren, and I occasionally visit the Toronto Humane Society website to see who needs a home. Today a nasty, killing-voltage-level, electric shock ran through me:
The society estimates they're about eight years old. The one on the left is named Princess. The one on the right is listed as Gabby. I have been frantically trying to find out more about them, to absolutely ensure they're not Niamh and Freya, but the society won't give out background info on animals over the phone.They can't be Nuni and Po. They just can't. And yet my guts are twisting. I'm so frightened. Mel offered the sage, calm opinion that it isn't them, but it's such a freaky coincidence. Niamh's electronic pet chip still lists her as Princess. They're seven. Too close to be calm. Too close. The only things keeping me even remotely okay are that Princess' beauty spot is on the opposite side of her nose -- but what if the photo's reversed?? -- and that I can't imagine M surrendering the cats and not coming to me first. That just isn't like him. At all.
But I can't get ahold of anyone who can 100% confirm for me that Niamh and Freya are indeed still in residence at my old home. M is on vacation, and our housemate, who was in a meeting at work when I called, hasn't called back, despite my urgent message.
So I'm vacillating between calm, terror, and grief.
The only way I'll know for sure is if I go down and see them. But I can't do that. I just can't. Going there would kill me. Mum and dad could take them if it really was them, so that's sorted. But I cannot have a new pet right now, and going down there, being amongst so many friends in need of homes...I can't.
The things we put ourselves through, eh?
2 comments:
Oh emm gee.
I'm with you-- I'd be freaking out. But trying to remain calm.
Is there a... I hate to say this... a time limit?
I may need to move to Toronto this weekend so that I could take them and house them for you.
I'm happy to report that the Toronto Humane Society (operating as an independent charity and no longer run by the City of Toronto), has a no-kill policy. If an animal is healthy and adoptable, they'll keep it for as long as it takes. Which is why they recently added the Skyhouse, which is a huge, light and airy rooftop addition with room for hundreds of cats.
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