Hey, you want a happy story for a change?
About six weeks ago, after the first big snow storm up here in New England, our rescue tom cat begged to go outside. He didn't come home before the snow fell...I found him the next morning stuck behind a snow drift, tucked under our gas grill.
So the weekend of the next big storm, he's begging to go outside again. Keep in mind, he's a feral cat...he usually spends the night out, then comes home for breakfast and sleeps all day. So we let him out, because he's insufferable when he wants to go out, and it wasn't snowing or anything, anyway. He'd be back in a couple of hours.
Nope.
We already had a bunch of snow on the ground, but not so much that he couldn't find his usual routes around the yard. We kept going out calling for him. He always just pops up at the door, especially when the weather gets bad. Cats know stuff.
This time he didn't show up. Then it started snowing like a mofo all day. Like FEET of snow. I think we got at least three feet. Cato didn't show up. We called for him, none of the usual routines worked. He didn't show up. I imagined him stuck behind another snow bank. I searched the yard, every nook and cranny, every window ledge, under stairs and porches (that I could get to, there was so much snow). No Cato.
We called for him and searched for him every day. Meanwhile, the temps were dropping to -10 and more snow was falling. You've probably heard how bad this winter has been. Colder and colder, more and more snow. No Cato.
We pretty much gave up hope after a few weeks and a few more snowstorms. He's been gone for four or five days before, but never this long in this kind of severe weather. I mean, we had nights at -15. And the snow kept piling up.
Last night I went downstairs to my studio. I heard meowing. Not unusual, one of our other cats hangs out there...but it wasn't her meow. She was sitting by the door to the garage, her nose pressed to the door jam. The meow was coming from the garage. My wife left for work in the morning -- I always take the car out of the garage for her, and I apparently left the garage door open a few inches. It was Cato. He had managed to squeeze under and sat by the inside door calling out.
AFTER SIX WEEKS. Six weeks in sub-zero weather and five feet of snow. Given up for dead. But he made his way home from wherever he was hunkered down. He is skinny and dirty and hungry, but very, very happy. He won't leave me alone. He lost so much weight he looks like a kitten again. But I think he cashed in one or two of his nine lives.
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Hope he fattens back up quickly. 
I was going to post a link myself, but you beat me to it. 
Get over here so I can love you up!
Glad you got your big cat back! 
