Two days before Christmas we were away for three nights. The building manager fed her every morning and every evening.

She thought we had left her. She went missing.

Thousands of flyers. Every letterbox we could reach. Rainy nights. Wet paper. Four months.

Then a neighbour saw a flyer, lured her inside with some snacks, and called.

I cycled over as fast as I could. And there she was. That's Kitty sometimes. A subtle type of love.