I was talking to Mom on Sunday, 3 June, (late Saturday night her time) when I saw a cat walk across the patio. "Mom, I've got to go---Hobbs just walked by!" I dropped the phone and opened the door. The cat promptly took off running. Hobbs has been missing since late February when the back door blew open after we had gone to bed. Of all the cats, Hobbs was the only one who ran away.
I raced into the beddroom to get my shoes and ran back out, Gregg yelling after me, "If you find the cat and bring her back, the dog is going to GAIN tomorrow." I didn't hesitate.
Now the cat was nowhere to be found. I walked through all my neighbors' backyards calling, "Here, kitty, kitty, kitty. Come on, Hobbs..." Nothing. I walked until I reached the street. Stopping, I looked around. I did not get the feeling she had crossed the street, and I looked up the street. I thought it unlikely she ran that direction either. I turned back and started walking on the other side of the tree line, still calling out her name.
All of a sudden, I heard her familiar meow. "Hobbs?" I called out again. She meowed in response. We kept the dialogue going until I saw her sitting under a clump of trees, waiting patiently for me to catch up to her.
I carried her home, a feather's weight of fur and bones.