I thought I’d lost my beloved cat for good. Then three years later, there was a bolt from the blue. By Kate Wood, 38
Scanning the car park, I got a few odd looks as I shouted for my cat.
‘Danger, Danger!’ I hollered.
And suddenly, there he was padding towards me – Danger, my handsome Bengal cross cat.
‘The wanderer returns,’ I said, laughing as I stroked his glossy fur.
My kitty had a tendency to roam, so I’d trained him to come to me when I called his name.
But it didn’t half attract some funny looks when I shouted it out in public!
Danger had been owned by my housemate, so it was her who’d chosen the name Danger because he was a feisty kitten who left chaos in his wake.
But after finding out she was pregnant, she’d asked if I’d take him on.
‘Absolutely,’ I’d agreed.
I’d always been a cat lover, so I knew I could give him lots of love.
Affectionate and playful, Danger loved cuddles and tummy rubs. And when I got him a furry friend, Beans, the pals would snuggle up together.
A couple of years later, we moved house and I let Danger out in the day for his first stroll around our new area.
‘Don’t go too far, mister,’ I warned him.
Only, hours later, he hadn’t crawled through the cat flap.
Worried he’d got spooked by the sound of fireworks and got lost, I went out in the dark to look for him.
‘Danger!’ I shouted, as I searched gardens, alleyways and hedges.
But there was no sign of him.
For weeks, I pounded the streets of my neighbourhood searching for him and even posted on Facebook groups.
I was gutted to lose him but still had a spark of hope.
‘I’ve got a feeling he’ll turn up,’ I told a pal.
'Don't go too far, mister'
But when a year passed with no sign of Danger, I knew it was unlikely I’d see my mate again and sadly cancelled his pet insurance.
It felt so final.
I missed him desperately and I wished he’d been there when my daughter was born and around for a much-needed cuddle when my relationship ended.
Then, one night, I’d just put my little girl, two, to bed when I got a call from a woman called Anthea.
‘Have you lost your cat?’ she asked, explaining she’d been rescuing feral kittens at a cat colony and come across a handsome Bengal.
She’d scanned his microchip and found my number.
‘Yes, Danger’s mine!’ I squealed in amazement. ‘He’s been missing for three years.’
Elated, I bundled my sleeping daughter into the car and drove over to the location on the other side of Rotherham, South Yorkshire, where I lived.
Hopping out of the car, I yelled, ‘Danger!’
Suddenly, I heard that familiar meow, as if he was saying, ‘Mum, is that you?’
My heart soared as he came running over and I pulled him into a hug.
‘It’s really you,’ I said, crying tears of happiness.
I don’t think either of us could believe it! It was the paw-fect moment.
As there were lots of people milling around, he was wary and I couldn’t entice him into his carrier.
But the next morning, with the help of Nicola, another volunteer, I went back and was able to get my boy home.
Danger, now 10, has settled back in happily and has stunned the vet by being in such rude health.
I still wonder what he was doing for those three years, but I’m just delighted he’s back where he belongs.
Beans is giddy to have her sidekick back, too.
And so that my green-eyed gallivanter doesn’t use up another of his nine lives, I want to get him a GPS tag.
But so fur, so good!