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MaryB of Pasadena's avatar

Many years ago, one of my favorite cats, a Russian blue, decided to flee the abuse of our two other felines, and took off. After much searching and neighborhood notes, I figured the coyotes had gotten her. Then, about two years later I spotted her in a nearby front yard (she was distinctly gorgeous), stopped and rang the doorbell. The two young kids, outside with the cat, stood mute and bug-eyed. I explained to their mother that I believed this was the cat I had lost and been looking for. She practically cried and said, yes, the cat had arrived in their back yard and had taken up residence with them. She said she had seen my notes but just couldn’t break her kids’ hearts by giving back the cat. Well, I couldn’t break their hearts either and wished them and my former kitty all the best. After all, it was her choice.

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TCinLA's avatar

They love us and they break our hearts.

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JDinTX's avatar

So many times, but our hearts heal back enough to love again.

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Penfist's avatar

That’s a good story with a good ending.

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