Five minutes or so before moving to California forever, neighbor-kids from across the street came over and said "Hi. My Mom said we could..." (I thought going to say "play over here." Jump on the trampoline.) But: "you could have our cat."
We were like "Huh." Kind of shocked; it was so sudden. (We've never had a discussion with the parents.) We don't have any animals. In the end, we were like "No. Maybe someday--but that's not the way to do things."
So, then, they left--and abandoned the cat. Saw it around, in our back-yard (probably eating the mulch-pile in the garden). So, we were like "Okay." Let it in, gave it some milk or tuna, whatever. We all fell in love with it! Decided to name it Django (like the boy-child I never had). Sarah's idea. (It was Henry, before.)
Then, a day or two later: some people come back to load up more stuff. The cat walks out the door, as we leave to go somewhere. I think I hear the guy whistling--maybe to the cat. (It's slightly awkward / embarrassing, to be seen with someone else's abandoned cat.)
Then, we come home--and it's gone forever! The guy must've taken it with him, after all. So, we're kind of sad. I mean: I guess we can go get another one--the old-fashioned way. But it's not the same.