Maeve Moment

We pulled up at home after a trip to Crown Candy (because we can, mostly, no good reason). I started getting Leo out of the car when Maeve said, "I know that cat."

I looked across the street to a little tuxedo (black and white) kitty, not very big.

"You do?" I ask. It looked like a stray to me.

"Yes, it's the cat from the posters on all the poles," she explained. Ah yes. Vic and Wendy. A couple weeks back she asked us if we'd seen her cat, a little black and white thing with a puffy tail. We hadn't, of course, and although I'd seen the posters I hadn't put much thought into it.

I approached it slowly, across the street. It dashed away from me and so I knew I'd have to make a quick move. I told Maeve to stand there and watch it while I went to knock on Vic's door.

I explained to him. He was, of course, interested. He followed me, even with my caveats that it was my 6 year old who thought maybe it was his cat, that I hadn't seen the tail, that I just couldn't be sure, there were so many strays.

He knew her immediately. "It's been two weeks," he exclaimed. He called her name and made little click noises that she obviously had heard before. She meowed and moved tactically, from the porch to the bush to the tree to the steps, until finally coming in reach.

"She's so skinny," he said, holding her. "I'm going to get her inside right now."

I couldn't have been prouder of Maeve, frankly. To notice the poster, remember the story (she explained that she'd asked Nate's dad why there were pictures of cats on the light poles, when she'd been over visiting on the other side of the street last week), see the cat, make the connection. It was a lot of steps for a tired 6 year old full of ice cream.

I saw Vic from my window step out on his porch and pull down the missing cat poster from his mailbox. Hooray.