One more statement before I bow out, and maybe on a more properly humane note:

Draco was the best of a bad brood, the runt of the litter and the kid among criminals. The rather serious unpleasantness of last Fall came about because our other two cats were big, furry, stupid allergens who just about killed me. We had to move to a situation in which the cats could live outside our house (with a not-too-shabby cat shed as the primary abode).

We knew there would be risks, but none as severe as the one posed last October when we believed we would have to put them all to sleep.

Getting them a yard to live in seemed like the best possible solution - check that: it was the only solution short of putting them down.

But Draco was the smart one, and by far the most athletic, and he alas is the one who managed to scale the 6-foot fence. My wife circulated 145 flyers to every house in the neighborhood but now two weeks have passed and we only had one sighting reported right after he disappeared.

The irony is, Draco was the smartest and as a short hair the least of an allergen. Thus he was more like a dog, which I believe is what every cat should aspire to.

He was psychologically devastated by the 2-month period from October-December when the three cats had to be lodged before we moved. A very smart little animal, he did not easily accept the change from having run-of-the-house to living in a cage. (The other two, much less smart, were much less affected).

Once we moved, Draco had just become, after 6 weeks or so, acclimated to the new, semi-outdoor life here in the bigger yard, and seemed like he would love it. Running pell mell, stalking birds, killing mice, the whole cat-life-enchilada: Draco seemed to have rebounded completely.

Then, just days before we left for Vegas, he leaped the fence.

I hate it because he was the most interesting of the three, and the most redeeming of the species.

I also hate it because he was an incredibly intelligent, yet young, siamese, and any suffering he may be undergoing with the terrible rain we have had since he left, the cars he never learned to deal with, and all the other contingencies of life in the wild, would be multiplied in my mind. There's a much greater empathy factor for a smarter animal. You could carry on a conversation with Draco.

He is a very attractive chocolate-point with light blue eyes, so we hold out the hope that some family took him in and ignored the collar and tag with our phone number and just decided to steal him. That would be ok. But he was absolutely paranoid - scared of his own shadow - so we are being a little optimistic in thinking he might have allowed himself to be taken in.

Life brings a multitude of tragedies and regrets. The loss of a kitten is, in the big picture, not the type of thing to make you question the meaning of existence. But if our enjoyment of the time with him was real, then to lose him is by the same token truly sad.

Goodbye, kid. As far as cats go, you were one of the good ones.