When I came home at
eleven, I saw through the screen door her "that was lost and is found."
She had been waiting to welcome me for three mortal hours.
I wish those people who believe cats have no affection for people could
have seen her then. She would not leave me for an instant, and
manifested her love in every possible way; and when I retired for the
night, she curled up on my pillow and purred herself contentedly to
sleep, only rising when I did. After breakfast that first morning after
her return, she asked to be let out of the back door, and made me
understand that I must go with her. I did so, and she explored every
part of the back yard, entreating me in the same way she called her
kittens to keep close by her. She investigated our own premises
thoroughly and then crept carefully under the fences on either side into
the neighbor's precincts where she had formerly visited in friendly
fashion; then she came timidly back, all the time keeping watch that she
did not lose me. Having finished her tour of inspection, she went in and
led me on an investigating trip all through the house, smelling of every
corner and base-board, and insisting that every closet door should be
opened, so that she might smell each closet through in the same way.
When this was done, she settled herself in one of her old nooks for a
nap and allowed me to leave.
But never again did she go out of sight of the house.
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