Our cat Charlie began asking to go outside as soon as we moved to Parkfairfax in July 2006. Our front door faces a wooded hillside away from the road. Since we had seen many neighborhood cats playing in the bushes, after much deliberation, we decided that it would be fine to let him go out. Charlie was very good about going out. He would check in every few hours and typically came when called.
The Washington, D.C., area was hit with a winter storm on Feb. 14, 2007, which covered the region in about 3 inches of sleet and ice. Charlie stayed in during the storm, but the following morning he meowed incessantly to go out. Once the door was opened Charlie went running down the path. He had never been in snow before.
My husband Matthew began to worry when Charlie hadn't come in by early afternoon. It was cold and windy outside and not like him to be out for so long. Matt began calling for Charlie, but the hours passed, and by nightfall he still hadn't come back. The later it became the more concerned we became. I filed a lost cat report with the Animal Welfare League of Arlington, but they did not have Charlie.
Starting at the crack of dawn Friday morning, we walked the neighborhood calling Charlie's name. We made fliers and our friend Betsy made 150 copies. A neighbor, Heather, heard my calls for Charlie and came out to ask if there was anything she could do to help. She told me about a YahooGroups page for Parkfairfax residents. I posted a message about Charlie there, too.
Every few hours we'd get bundled up and go searching for Charlie, talking to our neighbors and hanging signs, but to no avail. By Friday evening we were so heartbroken, convinced that Charlie was gone forever.
Our walks continued through the nights as we had read the best time to look for a cat is between 1 and 5 a.m. Matthew would walk in the middle of the night and I would begin first thing in the morning.
On Saturday, after a morning spent walking the neighborhood and combing the woods nearby, I saw a woman on her cell phone and said, "Excuse me, have you seen a gray cat." The woman hung up the phone and asked, "Are you Lara?" She told me that she had seen my posting on YahooGroups. She introduced herself and said her name was Chartley. She invited me into her house and allowed me to use her phone to call people who had lost and found cats in the neighborhood.
One of the people we contacted was Laura Totis, a wonderful lady who spends her life helping find lost people and pets. She recommended that we leave strong scented items outside, including used litter and our own dirty clothes. Laura also suggested that we purchase a baby monitor and leave it outside near a bowl of cat food. Our front steps were now quite a sight. We followed all of her recommendations and hoped that she would be able to come the following day with her dogs to help us search for Charlie.
On Sunday morning, while I was out searching for Charlie after Matthew's late-night rounds, my phone rang and it was Ellen. I'd never met her, but Chartley had given her my number. She was checking to see if we had found Charlie, and gave me the number of another woman who could come with a search and rescue dog.
Matthew called Sam at Solid Gold Pet Track and she promised to come down with her dogs that afternoon. This was a great relief because Laura was unable to make it.
Sam arrived a little after 1 p.m. on Sunday afternoon. She brought her two dogs, one of whom was Salsa. Salsa, Sam, and Matthew took two of Charlie's toys and set off to sniff him out.
It was amazing how Salsa knew how to differentiate Charlie's scent among dozens of cats, dogs and people who live in our neighborhood. Walking away from the house, Salsa followed his scent down the sidewalk determinedly. Salsa led the tracking group all the way out of the neighborhood, across a busy street, and to the edge of a fenced-in yard owned by the utility company.
Salsa tracked Charlie right into a storm drain that opened up halfway down a steep, brush-covered slope that led to a stream bed. Charlie had walked through the drain and jumped down onto the ice above the stream. Now, three days after the ice storm, they could see the slide marks where Charlie had slid down the steep ice toward the stream bed.
As Salsa followed Charlie's scent, his footprints were visible in the snow. At one point Sam pointed out some cracked ice above the edge of the stream where Charlie had taken a drink, nearly falling in. Matthew, Salsa and Sam walked along the stream back in the direction they came. Sam suspected that he had jumped into the storm drains to avoid the cold and followed them down to the creek. Amazingly, Salsa was able to track the scent even above ground.
Charlie had crossed the busy street a bit farther down, and his paw prints were clearly visible in the snow. He went up a slope and onto the grounds of a school. Now, heading back in the direction of our neighborhood, Matthew's hopes grew. He could see where Charlie had rested in a warm grassy corner, and used some mulch as a litter box. Salsa tracked him back into the neighborhood, but still well out of his normal range.
Sam, Salsa and Matthew traced him back into another part of the neighborhood, and in another big loop. By now it had been close to three hours and Sam was limping from having fallen on the rock-hard ice. We had to call it a day, but at least now we knew his range.
Although we were both upset to have the search end without Charlie, we felt uplifted to know that he was alive. We knew how he was getting around, where he found warmth, and that he had eaten. Sam was able to give us a renewed sense of hope that Charlie was alive and healthy. She also gave us invaluable information about where to look next, helpful poster techniques and even the supplies to make them.
Mostly, Sam left us knowing that there are good people in the world. She genuinely cared for us and for Charlie. We were blown away by all the effort and humanity she showed us at our time of need.
In the middle of the night, Matt heard some noises out the window that might have been a cat being attacked. He went out at about 2 a.m. to look for Charlie, starting where the trek with Sam and Salsa had ended and in the direction the sounds were coming from.
Matt came home at 5:02 a.m. He was freezing cold and told me that he saw a fox. My heart sank.
It was to be another day of searching and walking and calling Charlie's name. Matt got an intuitive feeling that Charlie was back down in the direction of the creek. He went down and spotted fresh tracks in the creek, as it had snowed another inch or so after Salsa and Sam's initial trek.
At 9 p.m., I walked the same path again before I was going to have to stop for the evening. On my way home I laid one more trail of food. As I was lying in bed trying to fall asleep I heard a very distant sound like a meow over the baby monitor. I couldn't tell if it was the screen door opening or even another cat in the neighborhood. I heard it again and asked Matt if he was meowing outside the door. He said, "No." I told him to call Charlie. He opened the door and heard loud meowing up the hill. He called Charlie's name twice and Charlie came bounding into the house. He was thin and very stinky, but he was home and we didn't really care about anything else.
He was so lovey and hungry, and obviously overjoyed to be home, warm and safe.
