1984

She was missing from the front yard when I returned from a day of shopping on Friday afternoon, but I hardly noticed. It had been a hard day and I was just happy to be home. But when I started to prepare dinner, I began to wonder. Why hadn't Sunshine been around to greet me as usual? My son, Richard, came home soon after and we both started calling, "Sunshine", Sunshine".

We looked on the fence and in the garage, and then on the roof. Often before, when we couldn't find her anywhere else, we'd find her there, and she couldn't get down by herself. But she was nowhere to be found. Never before had she failed to come by evening even when she made short sorties around the neighborhood.

Richard left for an engagement that evening, but as he left, he said, "Don't worry, she'll show up".

I called and called, and walked around our block until dark, and then kept both front and back outside lights on. Every few minutes I checked to see if Sunshine had returned. All night long, every time I woke up, I checked the doors again.

I had plans to leave the house in the morning, but before I left, I went to all the neighbors, asking if by any chance, she had been locked into a garage over night. No sign of a lost cat.

I returned in the afternoon as soon as possible, but still no sign of Sunshine. I was desperate. I called the Humane Society to see if she might have been turned in. She wasn't, but they took my name and telephone number, and a description of our rather nondescript cat. It occurred to me then, that I had from time to time seen starving cats in our yard, but I hadn't thought to call anybody although I would set out food and water. Perhaps, too, someone had lost a beloved cat, and had no way of knowing where it was.

The next morning, Sunday, Richard set out to check the neighborhood. He carried a picture of Sunshine, and some cards with our name and telephone number. He talked to everybody he met on the street or in their yards. Some had seen a cat something like ours, but there was never any response when he called. In the afternoon we both went out in different directions. Still no sign of Sunshine. In the evening we went out in the car, ranging farther from home, and we carried a dish and spoon, rattling it as we went. That had been a signal for her to come for something special - like ice cream lickings. No response.

For several days we walked the neighborhood and drove farther afield. I visited the Humane Society shelter and the county Animal Control Center. An attendant there suggested she might have been taken by a coyote, but I have never seen one in our neighborhood although there are supposed to be some in an undeveloped area not too far away.

We put a picture of her on a utility pole near our house, and I advertised in all the local papers. I wondered if someone might steal a pet in hopes of getting a reward. But still no Sunshine.

What does one do when one loses a beloved pet? I could bear her natural death, but to have her disappear without a trace, and not to know if she is being tortured, or hungry or cold, is devastating. She was such a sweet, affectionate cat that I had come to love more than any other pet we had ever had in our home.

Her life had been a checkered one.

A friend of Richard's had picked her up from an animal shelter and named her "Sunshine". When Bill tired of the cat, he gave her to Richard, who lived in the same mobile home park in Wisconsin. Five years ago my son decided to move to California and live with me, but knowing I wasn't enthusiastic about cats, he returned Sunshine to Bill.

Bill, however, still didn't want her and returned her to the animal shelter. This distressed Richard so much that he picked her up again and brought her to California.

At first she was confined to the outdoors, and when it got colder to the garage. But she grew on me and quite soon she was allowed in the house. I came to enjoy her company and when it was cold outdoors she would be happy inside, and would often sit on our laps when we read or watched television. But she was an independent cat and was outdoors most of the time. She was never locked up or tied, but she was never far from home.

It is many months now since Sunshine disappeared and I no longer visit the Humane Society shelter or the county Animal Control Center. I seldom look in the Lost-Found ads in the local papers anymore. I have another cat from the Humane society, a lovely affectionate cat, who will never be allowed to wander, and who spends most of her time in the house. But we still miss Sunshine...Has anyone seen Sunshine?