While strolling down Louisiana Tech's pleasant walks and nobel trees on a brisk spring morning, I was suddenly hit with the realization that something was missing. But what could that missing something be? All that was around me seemed normal, and nothing seemed to have changed. All of the buildings and people were the exact same as they had always been. And then it came to me. The cats were missing.
I sat in the Centennial Plaza for what seemed like hours hoping I would catch a glimpse of a cat either running under Harper or walking along the steps of Tolliver. But alas, not one beautiful feline appeared. For anyone who attends Tech, these cats are as iconic as our beloved bulldog. Some considered them a pest, but they were also adored by many who would sit on the steps outside of the Harper stairwell and pet them therapeutically after bombing a test. I did this very often myself.
An investigation was in order, so I spent the evening going office to office in Wyly Tower trying to find any information I could on my feline friends. All of the office secretaries were either at lunch, regardless if it was 9:30 or 3:30, or they gave me blank stares as they tried to figure out why I would possibly be wasting my time with this. But, this was important to me. I had to find the truth.
The following day I decided to spy on the groundskeepers. Perhaps they were told by the administration to give the cats an offer they couldn't refuse or go sleep with the fishes. My spying also turned out to be unsuccessful as I laid under the bushes for hours observing them do absolutely nothing. They would move around the quad every so often and pretend they were working on something important.
They only sign of a cat was when they would catcall my fellow colleagues. But, that did give me an idea. I had to entice the groundskeepers if I were to really find out what happened. I dressed in a large cat onesie pajama suit and walked towards them on all fours. I approached one groundskeeper and nestled my head on his leg and began to purr. I was immediately greeted with the swing of a giant rake and a fury of words I do not dare to repeat.
I began to lose hope in finding out what happened to my little fur balls. I couldn't help but wonder if they were safe and happy. Or, if they met a terrible fate. So, I did the reasonable thing and decided to eat my feelings. I drove to Grambling's campus to enjoy some much needed Panda Express.
As I got out of my car and walked towards the student center, I noticed something weird. There were cats everywhere. I had never seen so many on this campus before, and some even looked familiar. I stopped a student and asked him if he knew what was up with all these cats. He claimed that he didn't know, but that they just popped up one day. He then pointed me in the direction of a janitor they called Snow White. Snow White was given this name because he would notoriously speak to the animals around campus and would often sing to them.
Snow was hesitant to speak to me at first, but once he saw my intentions were pure, he began to explain to me what the cats had told him. "They wanted variety, you see, they were sad and upset at the selection at their other home," he said as he pet a cat in his arms and then proceeded to bathe it with his tongue. "These little guys said they couldn't believe Tech wasn't able to negotiate better on campus restaurants and coffee shops for their students. And not to mention how they couldn't even digest the cafeteria food. So they left and they're much happier here."
I can't say I disagreed with the cats, and I respected their pursuit for a better life. Before I left, I sat and pet them for a little while before we gave our final goodbyes. Saying goodbye is never easy. But they are happier now, and I can't be selfish. Until we meet again, my sweet angels.
