The words of the old song,
“She’s gone, gone, gone, and I can’t go on . . .whoaohoh”
keep running through my mind. My coon-raising friend said she would hear and heed the call of the wild by November.
He was right.
I miss her kid glove hands, her ultra-soft underbelly, the myriad squeaks and purrs. She had found a secret way into the roof and then into our attic, where she was born. While recently replacing our shingle roof with a metal one (it needed replacing since Hurricanes Katrina and Rita of 05), the workers sealed her secret entrance.
Chaoui could no longer get into the roof to sleep. So, I guess she moved to the woods out back and found a new home of her own. I can only hope she brings the grandcoons to visit this spring.
In memory of Chaoui . . .
Thank you, Chaoui, for a wonderfully memorable experience.