WORDS June Jorgensen
Crouched in the tall grass with only the tip of his nose visible, Bobo could barely see the green fields below and the Ribeira da Senhora do Verde, or the river in the Lady of the Green, whose waters would have great healing qualities. He felt his body sinking into a gooey mess. Lifting his right paw, he tried shaking off the mud, splattering his coat with black droplets.
“Boy, am I ever glad to be out of that awful place!” he muttered to himself. “Those guys were really mean to me! Geez, I wish I knew where I was!” He licked his paws, wishing he was home.
He emerged from the field, ears tuned in all directions. He was aware of the odours – there was a dog close by and another cat. He couldn’t see them, but then there were the other unpleasant smells – horse manure and urine plus rotting garbage.
Then there was a human voice but not the familiar one he longed to hear. “Oh no, not her,” he thought and sped off in the opposite direction. He stopped short on the edge of a pond, his paws sinking once again. A large brown dog appeared from nowhere and headed toward him, snarling and barking. Bobo jumped back and dashed up the nearest tree, sharp teeth barely missing his tail.
He stayed hidden long after the dog had become tired and left. His stomach was growling and he wished he’d had more for breakfast. He spent his first night outside beside an old abandoned parish church, catching only a few moments of sleep here and there and dreaming of food.
When morning came, he began his journey, not sure of where he was going, knowing only that he had to get as far away from the terrible place as possible.
He made his way down a dirt road that seemed to go on forever. It was all strange to him, but somehow he just knew that he was on the right path to find his human mother.
There are many stories of animals and their homing instincts, that inner compass from the earth’s geomagnetic field that guides them back to their families. A combination of odours and memories.
The only thing Bobo knew for sure was that he lived down the valley close to the ocean in a village he had heard called Monte de Alvor.
“I was happy there with my human and my sister Belle. Then she brought us to that bad house where no one liked us and just left us there. Why did she leave us? I need to find her and Belle and she will take us home and we can all be together again.”
In the days that followed, he continued down the road that was sometimes narrow and dusty and often travelled by humans in large, noisy metal boxes that tossed pebbles and rocks at him as he tried to cross to the other side.
And to make matters worse, the fields bordering the roadway had many fences and gates that he couldn’t squeeze through, making his journey more perilous as he followed the busy road and pathways. Often, large, aggressive dogs would bark and chase him away from their property.
He rested at the side of the road, tired and panting with exhaustion.
“I’m so hungry and so thirsty!”
A faint breeze brought the smell of food and the sounds humans make when getting ready to eat. He found them in the garden of a house, seated around a long table filled with things to eat.
Hoping no one would notice, he crept stealthily under a chair.
“Maybe if I position myself here, they might drop a morsel or two,” he thought, licking his lips.
He didn’t have to wait long before a piece of chicken landed on his ear and fell in front of him. Another and then another quickly followed it. A man with hair on his face and a big tummy smiled down at him, and it was not long before he was purring contentedly.
“Yum! I’m full.”
He found a quiet corner and was soon asleep. Later, when the light had faded and the northern star was high in the sky, he returned to the same spot. This time, there was food waiting for him and a bowl of water beside it.
The road was quieter now and he made good time as he continued down the mountain. He had dodged two and four-wheel monsters, moody felines and done detours around areas where little humans chased him in playgrounds. He had overcome hunger, thirst, burnt toes and matted hair. He had only one thought: “I must get home. I know my family is waiting there for me.”
***
June could not believe what she heard. “He’s what? That’s impossible!”
“Bobo has run away. I’ve searched everywhere for him,” said Ana, in a small, quivering voice over the phone.
“How long has he been missing? Is Belle alright?”
There was a brief silence, and finally, Ana answered, sighing audibly. “It’s been a week, but Belle is fine.”
“And you’re telling me now!”
“I wanted to find him before you came home. I’m so sorry.”
June made it to the shelter in record time. In the following days, she searched the hills and fields with Ana. They put up posters, checked with the local vets for any news of a cat with a microchip and posted on social media.
She rented a nearby caravan where she stayed with Belle, hoping that her ginger boy was still in the area and would be found. Days passed and she was sure her heart would break.
And then came the phone call. “Hello, is this June?” A pleasant-sounding young man asked with a Portuguese accent.
“Yes, it is”, she replied in a voice filled with anxious excitement.
“I think I saw your cat near Alvor. He came to the sliding door of our rental apartment. I think he was looking for food, but I didn’t have any and he ran off”.
“Was he wearing a green collar?”
“Yes. Actually, he had two. A green one and a beige one”.
“That sounds like him. Where do you live?” June asked, close to tears.
“I don’t know the exact address. We are on holiday from Lisbon and we just put it into our GPS. I will explain where we are.”
After a few more questions, June realised that he was actually in Monte de Alvor and was told she would find her cat that night by the abandoned purple restaurant and spa.
***
Bobo looked into the dark depths but could see nothing but piles of broken glass and rubbish beneath purple walls covered in graffiti.
“I know I’m close to home, but my family isn’t here. It was nice of that kind lady to leave food and water for me here. I hope she’s done it again.”
Suddenly his sharp ears heard a voice. The voice that he remembered with love. “Bobo, Bobo!”
He turned and saw a dark figure walking quickly down the dark street towards him.
June heard a loud howling sound come from the opposite side, and then a beautiful ginger bundle of fur was leaping into her waiting arms. He whimpered softly and buried his head in her armpit.
“Home at last,” he purred.
At that moment, a young couple with a baby came out of her old apartment, smiled and walked toward her.
“We’re so happy you found him.”
“Me too,” replied June, her eyes wet with tears as she soothed a very contented feline. “I don’t know how he made it down that mountain in the middle of the tourist season. He has one audacious spirit!”
The young man smiled. “I think he used up one of his lives,” he said.
“Hah!” thought Bobo. “Try TWO!”
The end
June is a writer, author, and artist
The story: ‘The Adventures of Bobo in the Lady of the Green’ is one of June’s adventures rescuing cats in Portugal and will be in her second book: Crossing the Pond – Tales of Adventure. The book is a sequel to her first book: I Heard the Alps Call His Name.
