This is one of those website posts I wish I didn’t have to write. Tragedy has struck our farm again. Our black calico housecat Calli, has disappeared. I had let her outdoors just after 4:30 AM on Friday morning, March 27. I watched her trot down the porch and down the stairway. She hesitated for a moment on the concrete pad at the end of the stairs to scan the surroundings. Then she trotted around the end of the house and out of my direct sight. She never returned. Now that three days of searching and calling for her, we must accept that she is gone forever and probably dead. The loss has been heartbreaking.
Less than a week ago, I let her out on the porch on a dark, cold, snowy morning. As soon as we stepped out onto the porch, I heard a sound under the far end of the porch. We had stored some metal roofing panels under that end of the porch, and the sound I heard made me realize that a fairly large animal was walking across it. Calli rushed down the porch steps to see what it was and was frightened by what she saw. She raced back up the stairs and crouched at the door to go back inside. I had to let her in, but by the time I could return with a flashlight to see underneath the porch, whatever it was had disappeared. I suspect it may have been a fox or feral dog that was seeking shelter from the inclement weather. Perhaps it had been tracking Calli’s scent and was waiting for her. I guess I’ll never know.
I had introduced our Peeper Pond Farm followers to Calli in my December 11, 2017 post. That was the 61st post I had written. Now, twenty-seven months later, I find myself dedicating my 149th post to her memory. Calli was the subject of many of my farm website posts over that time. Two of my favorite posts recalled her penchant for chasing deer. In her first year, she was such a bold hunter that she would actually chase wild deer from our property. One day, I watched in amazement, as she chased two 4-pont bucks up the gravel road to our farm.
Calli was one of the most intelligent cats I’ve ever known. On days when the weather was too inclement for her to go outdoors, she would goad me into chasing her around the house. I would chase after her and she would run under a bed. I would then slink away, and she would soon try to find me. When she did, she would attack my feet and race away again, as if to say, “you’re it.” However, I never had any luck hiding from her inside our master bedroom doorway. It seemed as though she could always knew I was there. It was later that I learned she had managed to recognize my reflection in two different mirrors that revealed my location to her. She seemed to understand the nature of the double reflection, and used it to see when I was hiding in that location. I’ve never known a cat with the intellect to understand reflections in one mirror, much less a double reflection.
Calli’s life may have been short (2.5 years), but she made the most of it. She loved our farm and routinely spent ten or more hours most days exploring it and hunting for bunnies, field mice, moles, birds, frogs, and anything else she could find. Bad weather rarely seemed to deter her joy to be outdoors. She was truly one with nature. She was proud of her hunting prowess and always wanted to share her wild bounty with us. I’ve never known a cat for such a short period of time that I will remember forever. We miss you dearly, Calli, and we hope that your life was as dear to you as you have been to us. I hope you will sleep in peace. You will be missed.