Farewell to Oscar...

For years he was nothing more than a streak of dark cat, dodging out of my line of site. He was feral, and terrifically shy. In good weather I'd rarely see him near the house, but would often catch a glimpse of his silhouette in a meadow nearby. He was obviously a successful hunter, as he was shiny and fit looking. When cold weather arrived he would break into our garage. This caused my husband and I angst, because the cat was frequently tearing into our bags of trash and making a horrid mess. I dubbed him "Oscar" after the grumpy Sesame Street puppet that lived in a trash can. If we saw him as we entered the building he'd give us a horrible hiss. This winter I was able to successfully evict him from the garage, but I fashioned him a shelter. I took a sturdy Styrofoam cooler, taped the lid on firmly, cut a small door in it and then stuffed it full of fragrant hay. I put the cooler inside a dog house, and tucked it near our back door in a spot where the wind was blocked. Oscar took to his new digs almost instantly. I put food and water out for him twice a day. By this time I'd been feeding him when he was around for at least 5 years. This fall he actually sat still, warily letting me watch him eat if I kept my distance. His coat was dense and sleek, his eyes bright. And he would vanish like smoke if I got too close for comfort. He was a loner that managed to avoid foxes,coyotes,eagles and the cars that drive too fast down our road. He survived the long winters and through it all thrived. Then last night I found him in his cooler, clearly dying. I don't know if he was tagged by a car, injured by a predator, or succumbed to some sudden illness. I stroked his head with one finger, the first and only time I ever touched him. His eyes were mere slits, his body chilled. He was beyond knowing that I was there. Sadness swept over me. But I was glad he did not die in the woods or field leaving me wondering about his fate. Instead he came to the only comfort anyone had ever offered him, a little box full of hay tucked in a safe spot.