Share your lost and found pet stories

In My Humble Opinion
1

My cat has been missing for three days. I’m still spending most of the day looking for her, but I’ve scouted out the immediate area enough that she either isn’t here or doesn’t want to come home.

So to keep my spirits up while I search, I’d like to hear about your success stories recovering a lost pet.
My cat had been very ill over the last few weeks - she needed surgery (to remove an infected uterus) and strong antibiotics to clear up the infection. But the treatment was successful and Tuesday I had her stitches removed and the vet said she was in good shape. I took her home and she mostly slept, but every once in a while she’d run around the house, crying, seemingly looking for something. It was unusual behavior but I didn’t think too much of it.

Later that night, since she seemed to be in fine shape, I left her at home for a while and went out for a few hours. When I got back, she was nowhere to be found - and then I noticed my screen door was open. It doesn’t latch properly, so instead I tape it shut … except I forgot to retape it after I had most recently untaped it to grab something from the patio. She let herself out and that was the last I’ve seen of her.

About two years ago she accidentally got locked out, dissapeared for 3 days, and then came in on her own through the screen door that I’d left open. I had no idea where she was in that time. I left her litter and a sweaty shirt on the patio to try to give her a scent trail, and I went out every day whistling for her… I don’t know if that helped any.

But this time I’m more worried because she’s freshly recovered from surgery, just fought off an infection, and I don’t know if she’s at 100%. She’s very smart and very very fast normally so I think she can take care of herself, but in this case I don’t know how weak she is - during the few hours I had her after the stitch removal she mostly slept. And I’m not even sure if she wants to come back, I can’t shake the feeling that during the extremely difficult times I had to give her medicine after her surgery she grew to distrust me because she thought I was torturing her.

She doesn’t have any tags or microchips unfortunately… I should’ve gotten her tagged but other than the time she was locked out whenever she gets out she comes back on her own within a few minutes to an hour at most.

I put some flyers up at stop signs at nearby intersections and some vet offices and by the apartment complex group mailbox - but it was somewhat poor planning and the 11x8.5" pictures don’t stand out very well by the side of the road, I’m going to work on getting better ones made. I’m going to put an ad in the paper but I missed out on the sunday edition deadline. I put her litter and a sweaty shirt out on the patio again, and smeared her favorite treats on the walls to try to create a scent trail.

I’m out multiple times every day searching the apartment complex for her, shaking her food and whistling. I’ve been driving around the nearby roads but I doubt that’ll do any good - she’s very cautious and stealthy and the odds of me spotting her are low - my best odds are that she hears me or sees me and follows me home. I’m keeping an eye on the local animal shelter too.

I don’t have a very good feeling about her this time. I don’t know what’s going through her head, how she’s doing with her physical ailments, or where she might be. So tell me about your successful pet recoveries, and any tips you might have.

2

I have a friend whose dog took off and they found it weeks later. I have another friend whose cat took off and then came back well over a YEAR later.

Good luck in finding your little friend!

3

I once had a dog, Spot, who got himself lost when I was 12 or 13 and very attached to him. Dad and I would spend some time every evening after school driving around the area where he was last seen. Every few days, we’d hear from one of the locals that yes, they did see a little black dog recently, but it wouldn’t let them approach.

We put up signs and posted a reward. Eventually, after about four weeks, someone caught him and called us. He was smelly and dirty and his breath was horrid (we figure he’d been living on roadkill). His collar and tags were long gone. But he was very happy to see us.

Best wishes, I hope she finds you soon.

4

When I was nine or ten years old our cat Percy went missing for a week. After he was gone for a week we got a call from a family friend who was also a mechanic who worked on our cars. The day the mechanic called (it was Good Friday, no less), he asked us if our cat had been missing. He described the cat to us. Sure enough, it was Percy! It turned out that he had crawled up into the engine compartment of the pickup truck that we needed to have worked on, so he had ridden out to where the mechanic and his family lived and had their workshop while huddled in the engine compartment. That must have been a scary ride for the poor fellow with a noisy engine whirring away and pavement passing underneath at 60 mph.

Back in 2004 my cat Patches (who looks a lot like Percy, tuxedo cat with black and white) got out of the house. It was the only time he had ever slipped out. He was gone for exactly one month. He appeared at the back door late one night. He must have either found some food or got by on mice and birds while he had been out of the house, though he had shown some signs of weight loss, which he quickly regained.

5

There is always hope.

A little over a year ago, friends of mine called to report that their dear cat went missing. It had happened once or twice, and he always came back after a couple days. This time, though, days turned into weeks. They canvassed the area with signs, dropped them off at local businesses, and called all the shelters and animal hospitals, leaving flyers with them, too. Every so often a call would come in with someone saying they spotted him nearby, but Sammy was nowhere to be found once they would get there to investigate. They were heartbroken.

One day, at least 3/4 months later, I got a call. I just new what was going to be said. Sammy had been found! He somehow had ended up at a local animal hospital. An alert vet tech noticed him in her neighborhood and brought him in after remembering the flyer. Sam was fully healthy, much thinner and a bit straggly, but healthy and alive. I couldn’t believe it, yet somehow never really thought he was gone for good, either.

Moral is, never give up hope. You are doing all the right things. Make sure to include all the area animal hospitals/vets when you drop off your flyers. The people there will be more than happy to post them. Your kitty may be turned in there if found as many people may be reluctant to turn an obvious pet to a shelter and may opt for a vet instead. In Sammy’s case, a sharp worker had their eyes peeled, and it paid off. Keep walking the neighborhood when you can. You’ll find each other.

Good luck and never give up hope.

6

I had a Siamese cat that had so many unbelievable adventures that I should write a book about her. She was lost and found many times.
One time I was staying at my parents house in the suberbs of Toronto. Some one let the cat out and she disappeared. I was aware of this right away and went looking for her. Down the street a lady came out and said “does your cat look like so and so?” I said ya that’s her. She said that the wierdest thing had happened. She was driving along downtown and all of a sudden this cat came out from under the seat and scared the life out of her. She oppened the door and the cat ran off. I found out exactly she had been a drove there right away. There was an above ground parking garage right by there. I drove up to the roof and started calling out the cat’s name. After a couple of minutes of calling I could hear her unique Siamese voice calling back in the distance. I continued to call and I could tell she was getting closer meowing away like crazy. Finnaly I spotted her running along about 3 blocks away. I screamed out her name and I could tell she saw me as she picked up speed heading right for the building I was in. I took off for the ground and when I got there she was waiting for me right by the door looking cool as a cucumber like, like"What tookyou so long buddy?"
Another time we moved about 100 miles to a new house. After about a week the cat disappeared. She was gone for about a month. My wife put it on the local radio about the cat a couple of times and sure enough we got a call that someone had found her almost back to our old house.
Another time she went missing and my wife found her for sale in a pet store 6 weeks after she went missing. Champaign lived to the ripe old cat age of 20 years. She was a great cat.

7

I was in the backyard of my old river house one summer day, when I heard a Great Crested Flycatcher calling from a nearby cypress. Pretty common in the breeding season, but what they hey I gave it a look. My eyes just about bugged out when I saw a freakin’ parrot sitting on a branch. My neighbor and I tried to coax it down-at one point we almost had it in a 20’ long pool net, but I figured getting the net on her (a cockatiel to be specific) might injure her. She eventually flew off down the coast. I checked the local newspaper archives, and it turned out that a Hispanic couple and their kids had lost a cockatiel about 6 months earlier-the kids opened the front door and the bird flew out. I called them back to let them know that their baby at least was still alive and fending quite fine for herself (apparently she had been following the river south ever since-I saw her munching on Spanish moss). The woman didn’t seem too upset, but perhaps I should have let it lie and not called her.

8

We had a very adventuresome cat while I was growing up. It wasn’t too unusual for him to be gone for a day or two every once in a while. He collected quite an interesting list of diseases and accidents over the years. When he was getting fairly old and a bit worn down, he went missing and didn’t come home. My parents searched for him for a couple of weeks, but no sign of Kitty. Eventually, after he’d been gone almost a month, they decided that they would get a kitten. Not two days later, someone knocked on the door and asked if they were the people who were looking for a white cat. Poor kitty had gotten himself trapped in a vacant house. He’d lost a tremendous amount of weight and wasn’t fully conscious, but after a few days of TLC he perked up and was quite surprised to find a kitten in his house. Fortunately, the kitten had a serious case of idol worship and went out of his way to make Kitty happy.

9

I had a siamese cat walk off . I had given up . But, I heard meowing and there he was on the porch wanting to come in. He was gone for 6 weeks. He needed a lot of pet jobs to start to feel right.

10

You might try posting a “lost” ad on Craigslist. Good luck!

11

When I was a kid, I had a cat named Muffin. When I was about 9, my mom sent me to stay with my grandmother for a week over Spring Break. While I was gone, Muffin escaped out the door and went missing. When I got home, I was heartbroken. Several months later, to cheer me up a bit, my parents got me another little kitten, Max. When I went away to sleep-away camp that summer, Max took off. My mother was frantic - she couldn’t have me come home and find that my new cat had run away. She and her best friend canvassed the neighborhood - signs, ads in the paper, door-to-door questioning of people. They spotted a sign for a found cat and, even though the description was completely wrong, they called the lady. She asked them to describe Max and said that the cat she had found wasn’t that cat at all. Out of desperation, they convinced her to just let them come look. When she opened the door, they both screamed - it was Muffin! She had been gone at least four months at that point. I was ecstatic to see her when I got home from camp. Unfortunately, we didn’t ever locate Max.

12

About 20 years ago, my golden retriever went out a gate and disappeared. I checked the local dog shelters every other day and made it a point to especially check them on Mondays following the weekend. Three weeks went by until he showed up at the Humane Society. He recognized me and was happy to see me, putting his paws on front of his cage and barking enthusiastically. I took him home and we had a good reunion.

Here’s the puzzling thing. I had two different tags on his collar with his name, my address and phone number, and an identification number at the local Humane Society. If the people didn’t want to call me directly, they could have called the Humane Society and the H.S. would have contacted me after checking the ID number. This was before dogs routinely were microchipped, of course. When I got him back, he still had his collar and tags. He looked well-fed and was wearing a bandanna that I had not put on him. Apparently, someone took him in and kept him, yet made no effort to contact me, despite the dog having two ID tags. I have no idea how he ended up at the Humane Society, but am glad he did, but I’m was irked at the people who kept him for three weeks, yet made no apparent attempt to get him back home.

13

This happened in late October, 2005. My mother had fallen in the bathroom early one morning, and while the paramedics were taking her out to the ambulance my 18-year-old indoor-only cat, “Little Bear,” got out. I didn’t even notice his absence until I got home from the hospital that evening, and he just wasn’t anywhere in the house. I had to spend a lot of time in the hospital for the next few days, followed by my mother’s death and the funeral. So it was almost a week before I could put up notices about the lost cat. Since he was so old and didn’t get around too well, I only put up notices within a couple of blocks of the house. I got a few responses, all from the same direction, so I put up more notices in that area. I got a few more responses, further out, and put up more notices. Then I got no new responses. It was now over two weeks that he was gone, and was now early November, and getting pretty cold and rainy, especially at night. I had to face the fact that a geriatric cat could not survivie in this weather. There was no way for him to stay warm and dry, or to defend himself or catch anything for food. I had totally given up hope.

Finally, after 18 days, I got a phone call from someone, saying “You’d better get right over; your cat is sitting in my driveway.” I was skeptical, since the caller was over a mile away, but I drove there immediately. Sure enough, sitting in the driveway, was Little Bear. He gave me a look that seemed to say “What the hell took you so long?” When I picked him up, he hardly weighed anything, he was so malnourished and dehydrated. His weight was actually 6 pounds, down from his normal 12. But other than that he had no health problems.

Little Bear lived . . . indoors . . . for another two years, long enough to celebrate his 20th birthday.

14

No lie: We had a kittycat get out because my Lab left the sliding door open.

Our yellow Lab learned how to open the screen door and the sliding door to our back deck. So if people are outside and he’s inside, he can just let himself out. Like kids everywhere, though, he never thinks to close the door behind him. Bad dog!

I get a call from Jo Kerrwoman while I’m at work – our scaredy cat is missing. Three of them got out: One hung around on the deck waiting for human companionship; one hung around under the back deck waiting for the all clear from his human companions; and one screeched “HOLYCHRISTIMOUTSIDE!!! THEWORLD ISENDING!!! RUNRUNRUNRUNRUN!!!” and disappeared.

For 10 days we hunted with no sign of the cat. I was sure she was caught by a fox or a dog. Then one of the neighbors thought he saw her. Then another.

So we bought a HavAHeart trap and put some food in it. One morning I checked it, and it was full – of the wrong cat. A very ANGRY tomcat, who tried so hard to extricate himself that his paws were bloody. I got my gloves and carried him to the end of the yard and stupidly opened the door. The cat bolted out, paused for a minute, thinking “Should I kill this bastard? Or should I run?” Lucky for me he decided to run.

I ran into another neighbor who said she saw the cat in her yard. We set the trap and proceeded to catch the neighbor’s own Jack Russell terrier – twice in one afternoon.

Finally, on day 16, I looked out on the deck and saw our lost soul. I opened the door – and she ran. So I put the trap out on the deck in the morning. By that afternoon, we had our harvest: One very emaciated girl kitty. Whose personality had mellowed quite a bit.

She’s still with us, though she has gotten out again. Now she stays under the deck or hides on the roof, and comes to our younger daughter.

I just tossed the sliding door on Mother’s Day in favor of French doors. The Lab hasn’t figured those out – yet.

15

Compared to the other stories here, it’s not that unusual but I still can’t believe my lost kitty story was also a happy one.

He was an old, mellow, indoor-only cat and got out. I thought for sure he’d just be too stupid and non-street savvy to survive and find his way back from wherever he wandered off to. I searched and went door-to-door to no avail. I read on the internet that indoor cats, when they get out, generally are very scared and are nearly always within a three-house radius, because they hide and just don’t venture far. Every night I went out to our back yard and just chitted and called his name in case he was cowering in hiding. I also read that they are very scent-oriented and to put a familiar blanket or pair of underwear or something outside near the house (exactly as you’ve done, SenorBeef).

Anyway, I gave up. After about six weeks and several bouts of cold rainy weather, he showed up. He darted out from under our car in the driveway. Hadn’t gone far at all.

Don’t give up hope, cats always seem to find their way back.

16

We had this cat, Lightning, when I was a kid. A pretty long-haired white indoor cat. When she was 13 we got a kitten named Cinnamon, who was abused and wouldn’t come inside very often the first couple of months after my mom rescued her. (Cinnamon and her siblings had been thrown out of a moving car, and had been the only kitten in the bag to survive, so you can imagine that she didn’t trust people much). The girls didn’t see each other much, but they were aware of each other’s existence.

One day Lightning managed to get outside, and we were crushed. An elderly indoor cat out on her own for the first time? We didn’t hold much hope of ever seeing her again, and the RSPCA told us it was a terrible long shot. Cinnamon, on the other hand, started to feel a lot friendlier towards us, and finally consented to come in the house once in a while.

Two weeks went by, and Cinnamon howled at the door to come in, so we opened the door for her. Five minutes later, we heard howling at the door again, and there was Lightning! She smelled like pipe tobacco, and didn’t look any worse for wear, so we’ve always assumed a nice old man looked after her while she was gone. And maybe it’s fanciful to believe it, but I truly believe that Cinnamon came across her outside and Lightning followed her scent home.

17

Weezy is my family’s (I’m in school, my brothers are in high school at my “home”) 3 year old bullboxer, who has been with our family for about 9 months. My brother found him on the highway, and secretly kept him in the garage for a week until my parents found out, and agreed to let him be part of the family, however grudgingly.

I come home a few weeks later, to find out Weezy has a permanent tattoo on his leg. I figure he’s someone’s expensive “intentional cross” dog, like a cockapoo or a labradoodle. To the dismay of the rest of my family, I call all the surrounding counties’ courthouses, to finally find the registration, and thus the owner and her phone number. Turns out she’s been evicted, and collection calls are constantly going to the new number’s owner. Weezy’s name is, hilariously enough, Sir Lancelot, to which he does not respond to whatsoever. I find the owner on Facebook; she does not respond to my messages. We list him on several “lost pets” websites. My parents drive out to the address on the court document 50 miles away. The family is depressed that they may have to give Weezy back to someone who can’t afford to give him the care we have been. They arrive at a burned out trailer, and Weezy spends the entire time growling - something he had never done before, and has never done since. We take him home and adopt him permanently, getting his shots and getting him neutered.

A few weeks later, the process is still ongoing for his adoption; a little tricky since he was found, and since the county has to make an effort themselves to find the original owner. Weezy is accused of killing a neighborhood cat (to be fair, this is possible), yet he was in our house at the time of the death. The dog catcher approaches my mother with a cop while they’re out on a walk. The dog catchers says she must formally adopt Weezy from the pound, that he’s a killer, and that he has to take the dog from her immediately. My mother is fairly prominent in the community, and the officer strongly urges the dog catcher to issue her a citation. My mother offers to walk home with them, to show him the papers she has for the adoption process. No luck. Weezy goes with the dog catcher, and into the animal shelter. Weezy is in the shelter and is “adopted” from the shelter at 8am on the 4th day he’s been there - when he was free to be adopted by anyone, grossly enough. Weezy has horrible diarrhea and is anxious for days when we finally get him back, but he recovers in a week. The dog catcher is fired, due to overstepping his bounds on multiple occasions, ours being the straw that broke the camel’s back.

Weezy escapes months later, and is gone for a few days. My whole family is depressed, and my father goes out to pick up some food for the family. He stops when he sees a woman walking Weezy with his collar (no tags, since he’s tattooed) and her leash on him. Weezy sees dad and drags the woman over to his car, where he nearly scratches the paint off trying to get inside. The woman claims she “found” him and decided to “adopt” him a few days ago. She says “Is this your dog?” as if it wasn’t already clear. :rolleyes:

There is always hope! Have faith.

18

My son was looking out the kitchen window during a rainstorm. He spotted a beagle walking down the sidewalk. We were a couple blocks away from a major highway. So he ran out and brought him in. We ran ads in papers, called the Humane Society and the police. Nobody came for him. He died 2 months ago after more than 13 years. He was badly abused when we found him. He was the best dog I ever had. He was very smart and we gave him a very good life. I joked that he came here because that was where he was supposed to be.

19

In the fall just as it was turning really cold, i.e. October, Sam Stone opened the door of our bedroom at 1:30 AM and said, “I lost the dog.”

I sat up in bed. “WHAT? What do you mean you lost the dog?”
Sam related that he had let the dog out and forgotten about her for a little while, and she strolled out of an unfenced portion of the property. He said he had driven round the neighbourhood several times for the last hour or so calling for her with no results. He was tired and wanted to go to bed.

I got up and reported her absence on every local “lost pet” site I could find. She is tagged with name and phone number, microchipped and licenced, and I knew that if found we would hear about it unless the finder was unscrupulous. But I still had to go and look.

So I put on my snowsuit and went looking. The dark was profound and the wind was blowing. People still had wind chimes out and the neighbourhood was kind of scary. I clumped down to the walkway that half-rings the manmade lake, across the water from our property, calling Katie’s name. I intended to go round the lake on foot and up the other side again to our house – where we would often walk with Katie.

I was still half-asleep and the wind rustling the bullrushes creeped me out. But I kept stumping along and calling her name. When I got to a spot where steps and a path led back out of the lake area, I heard a collar jangling. Katie ran to me, crouching every few steps and nearly crawling on her belly with intensity and sheer joy.

I picked her up, though she was perfectly capable of walking. I wasn’t going to let her out of arm’s reach until I had her back home. She is small for a border collie, only about 30 pounds. I carried her all the way home, and didn’t put her down until I had opened the front door and stepped inside.

Now we have a lightup collar for her with flat flashing LEDs on it that we turn on when there is no moonlight, so we can watch her the whole time she’s outside at night. Katie turns ten this August, but I do not trust her age to squelch wanderlust entirely.

I do hope you find your cat. It makes it all the harder that you have been a conscientious pet owner. :frowning:

20

My Max cat went missing for two weeks when he was just a kitten. I was a teacher and I brought his picture into class and showed it to all my kids. They spent the next two weeks scouring the village and…one of them found him!

There was a narrow window above my front door from which the glass had been removed and my student got a chair, climbed up on it, and dropped Max through the window. When I got home, he was sitting on the stairs, waiting for me. (Only later did I find out how he got inside the house.) It was a really good, but really weird, surprise.

Three years and five thousand miles later, we’re still buddies. Although he’s sitting on my left arm right now, which makes it kind of hard to type.