Vanishing Act

I wonder what happened to Tipster? Last time I saw him (45 days ago) he was peering at me from the top of the hay bales in the hay barn. The next morning when I went to fill the feral feeders, he didn’t come running to take his place at the feeders for breakfast.

I haven’t seen him since and I have talked to neighbors and walked the road looking into the ditch to see if he might have gotten hit by a car. I did not see any evidence that he had.

He is a friendly tuxedo boy who preferred being outside in the barn instead of inside with the others. I miss his white tail tip waving a greeting to me in the mornings and his plaintive meow at night when I go out to feed.

Tip, I hope someone has adopted you into their heart and home. Perhaps, like Funny Face you found a lonely old soul and knew that you needed to stay there instead of coming home. But I miss you old friend- and Dash and Chappy call out to you. I hope you haven’t gone to see India may she RIP- I hope you are somewhere curled next to a fire with a loving human near you to see to your needs. I miss you sweet boy- and my hope is you are still purring up a storm and not in the company of the angels.

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