She was the runt of the litter but the best hunter. Last born in March, #4 of 4. She preferred to stay outdoors, coming in – sometimes – to eat or, if the weather was really bad, sleep in a bed just inside the door. She’d disappear for a day or two at a time at all times of the year, but would return to the back porch on a regular basis; they were born in a closet but raised by their mother under the back porch step and I suppose that was where she was most comfortable.

She loved fried eggs. I’d set out a plate with the yolk remains after I ate the eggs and she’d have this weird little twisting motion before she settled down to scarf up every trace of yellow. It was hard to tell the plate was dirty when she was done.

It was this time of year when we realized she had been gone longer than normal.
“Have you seen Little Calico around lately?“
“No, I haven’t. It’s been a while“

We never saw her again. It was her second summer; I figure she got focused on the prey in front of her not realizing she was the prey from above.
Or she wandered too far into coyote country … just the other side of the road behind us.

I always miss my cats when they’re gone. She was one of my favorites.

Her mama and three now-7yo siblings are still around. So is their friend who showed up – also a kitten at the time – before their 1st birthday. Mama is 9 or 10, doesn’t have her teeth anymore, and pretty much has decided to be an indoor cat. The others … act like cats. They want to go through the door. Doesn’t matter which direction. Summer nights, they want out. Unless they want to be fed.

I’d miss everyone of them if they disappeared.