We are almost out of barbecue cats. The big orange cat went to rescue and is now called Pumpkin. I don't know if he found a home, yet, but the night the lady from rescue picked him up, Watermelon Head went away and he never came back.
Mom looked everywhere for him. She even got Zipper to go with her. Zipper and I liked Watermelon Head. He was a pretty cool guy, for a cat, and didn't hiss or scratch when we sniffed his face. Mom bought him a fuzzy house to sleep in, but Watermelon Head didn't like being inside so he slept on top of it, on the ledge under the table outside.
He came in the door sometimes, even though he knew he wasn't supposed to. Dad said Watermelon Head didn't mind letting everyone know when he expected food. He was spoiled rotten, especially for a wild cat.
Watermelon Head got into a lot of fights and mom was trying to get him used to being held so she could take him to South Carolina to be neutered. She finally got him to sit in her lap for a couple of minutes and hoped he would soon be tame, but then he disappeared. He got his name from when dad first saw him, all beat up from a fight and his head swollen as big as one of those little watermelons mom likes to eat. Watermelon Head didn't seem to mind his name. He always answered to it, anyway.
It's been a long time since Watermelon Head disappeared. Mom calls for him now and then, and she let me walk in the woods with her to look for him last week, but she said he probably won't ever come back again.
We all look at his little house every time we go out, hoping to see him sleeping there again. We miss him. Rest in peace, Watermelon Head.
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