HenrySeveral weeks ago, one of my cat sitting clients called me for a job.  I went over for the initial visit to meet her inside cat.

During the visit she told me about another cat living at a vacant house that she feeds. He was dumped there as a kitten and stayed. The people who own the house don’t mind, but also don’t claim him so my client fed him.

While I was there, she looked out her kitchen window and said, “There he is. He comes over sometimes and sleeps on our patio.”  I looked at this big white cat with tabby patches and said something like, “Isn’t that nice of you.”

That was that. We finished our visit and I went home.  I live about two miles away as the crow flies. 

That was a Saturday.

The following Wednesday I came home from work and that stray cat was sitting on my back deck asking to come in! ‘Surely this isn’t the same cat,’ I thought. So I called my client and they hadn’t seen the cat (they called him Skank, I don’t know why) for several days. “Well I have a pretty good idea where he is!” I said.

Now, in December my 16yr old Maine Coon, Buddy, died of heart failure rather suddenly. Then in January, his buddy Drew also died of old age.  I was heartbroken but also relieved that they weren’t suffering and I was less two cats. (I had 12).

I had no plans whatsoever to adopt any more cats, so I took Skank back to his own neighborhood. “Yeah, that’s him alright,” she said when I opened my car door and he jumped out. (He likes to ride in the car.)

‘Good,’ I thought. He’s back where he belongs.

Friday night about 10p.m. I hear a very pitiful catterwolling outside my bedroom window. Guess who.

Saturday a.m., he went back to his old neighborhood. Now he has it good there. He gets lots of love and attention and good food and has a warm, cozy place to sleep at night. It’s not a bad life for a country cat, believe me.

Saturday around noon, he’s at my back door.

So this went on for about two weeks. Each time it took less and less time for him to find his way back to my house. ..down a mile of road, across another busy road, through at least 50 acres of woods, across a dirt road, up another dirt road for about a 1/4 mile to five homes on the lake.  Out of ALL of them, he picked me.

I have been adopted. I gave up taking him back. We split his vet bill to have him neutered, tested and vaccinated and now he lives here. His new name is Henry. 

HOW did he pick me? AND WHY?  

And to add to the mystery, all my cats, but one act like they’ve known him forever.  I don’t believe he’s the reincarnation of anyone or any deceased pets, so don’t even go there. There’s got to be some sort of scientific explanation.

Did he follow the scent of cat spray on my tires? That’s what I think, but then why didn’t he go back? Why did he choose to stay here? He did go back once or twice I was told, but not for more than a couple of hours.

Somebody explain that one, because I’d be curious to know.

I’ve had cats for 30 years and have never had that happen.