A couple weeks ago I noticed that I hadn't seen the cat next door in several days. I naturally began worrying about her and I was convinced she was dead. However, Nate has always said that I have a "ripe imagination" so I put my hopes on the fact that she we would soon reappear.
I talked to our neighbor today while he was out washing his truck. Sheba is gone. Apparently, he found her dead, and he suspects that a dog got to her. I was horrified and very sad. She was a beautiful Siamese mix, very friendly, and had a reputation of keeping the other critters away from the territory surrounding our units. Our neighbor had her for 8 or 9 years. He was obviously still coping with the loss.
She wasn't mine, but I had grown somewhat attached to her, as she would often greet us when we got out of our cars, roll around on the path ready for a rub-down, and she was just a natural part of our immediate surroundings at home. We can still see the shape of her body in the indentations she made in the ground cover underneath the stairs, where she would often sleep.
There's one thing about a pet dying of old age... and another about a pet dying in a struggle of self defense. It makes me sick. But, that is nature, I suppose. She will be missed!
(At the time of this writing, Cheyenne will never ever ever ever be an outdoor cat. Sheltered indoors for life!)
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