Chapter 8

On the drive to the shelter in Kahului, winding around the "backside" of Maui with its open, rugged views, Keone and I decided to broaden our search in any and all interviews to include Tiki and the other missing cats in our area. It stood to reason that where one missing cat was, another might be.

So many felines disappearing at once couldn't be a coincidence.

We sped along the scenic highway with its grand vistas, rugged grassy slopes, and interesting twisted orange wiliwili trees as well as cinder cones. Eventually, turning right to head to Haleakala Highway, we arrived at The Cat Shelter, Maui's biggest no-kill nonprofit specializing in saving cats. The program was located in a fenced, open grassy field overlooking the valley below.

Keone got out and opened the cat-proof wire gate so we could drive in.

The Shelter consisted of a large property containing a couple of metal barns, a series of fenced pens, one great big cat cage surrounding a eucalyptus tree, and a simple modular home above. The whole property was the size of a residential block.

Keone took my hand as we exited the vehicle and greeted the Shelter's administrator, a rounded Caucasian woman with a jumble of shoulder-length hair in multicolored hues of green, pink, and blue. She wore teal-colored glasses and a purple tee emblazoned with the Shelter's logo, a pair of kittens whose profiles formed a heart.

"Thanks for making the time to see us," I said, holding out the flyer with Lady Sapphire's photo on it. "We're looking for this Himalayan specifically, and also some missing indoor-outdoor cats from our area of Hana and Ohia."

"I see." Dr. Jill Hanson, a retired veterinarian according to the Shelter's website, took the flyer, studied it, and put it on the clipboard she held. "So you're missing cats from East Maui, eh? We haven't had any from that area lately. In fact, we haven't had any new ones at all, recently."

"Is that a good thing? No news, I mean?" Keone was still holding my hand, and it had begun to feel claustrophobic. I detached gently and stepped away from him.

I was so much better with my touchphobia than I'd been. I had to take the wins I could, and hope he wasn't hurt by my ongoing need for physical and other kinds of space.

"Yes. No new cats are great. We're about bursting at the seams right now. I'm working with my volunteers on ways to get our babies out to new homes." Dr. Hanson pushed her glasses up with a finger, studying us.

"Where do the cats come to you from?" Keone asked.

"All over the island. Let me show you around." Dr. Hanson gestured for us to follow as she headed to the giant cage area. "Most of the cats we host are brought here by people who want to make sure they aren't euthanized for any reason. A lot of people come to Maui and adopt a pet, then have to leave for whatever reason. Or they find a stray who's not so pretty or friendly, and they want to make sure it finds a home. We make sure every cat has a home, even if it stays here forever." Her eyes flashed with passion as she looked at us over her shoulder—or maybe it was just the sun on her glasses. Either way, she meant her words. "Come see our main cat run."

She led us along a path of woodchips to the enormous chicken wire construction built around a tall eucalyptus tree that I'd noticed as we drove in. She opened a hasp-style wire door. "This is our main feline-friendly living area."

We followed Dr. Hanson inside the structure and were immediately swarmed by cats: black, white, calico, tabby, gray, orange, and every shade in-between. They'd mostly been lounging on a tall, carpet-covered wood structure erected around the bole of the tree; now they boiled down, and mewing and yowling and purring, surrounded us. Several wound their bodies around my legs. A couple put their paws up on my jeans to beg for pets.

I stood stock-still, feeling disloyal to Tiki that I wanted to grab up the chubby calico with the green eyes and long white whiskers. Or the sleek black male with tuxedo markings and white stocking feet. Surely Aunt Fae would understand.

But Tiki wouldn't, when she got home.

Hell had no fury like a jealous Tiki. She didn't just begrudge Keone his spot on our bed; she chased off any cat with the temerity to lay a paw on her turf. She'd eat these sweet kitties for breakfast if I brought one home.

"What a great place," I said, hands on hips as undulations of cats swirled around us in multicolored waves. I scanned for one-eared, tabby-faced calicos with kinked tails or blue-eyed, Himalayan princesses. "You certainly have a lot of them in here. Do they fight?"

As I asked that, a skirmish broke out in one corner. Keone ran over and clapped his hands, breaking up the hiss off.

"They're all spayed and neutered. Part of our services," Dr. Hanson said. "That keeps down most of the aggression, but there are some felines that came late to being surgically altered. They want to dominate and control their territories." She pointed to a large gray tabby Mr. K had shooed into a corner. The animal lashed its tail, its fur fluffed and eyes slitted, glaring at the rival who'd run away. "But generally they get along amazingly well. People do like you're doing. Come inside, hang out. See which one feels like a fit. And then take one or two home." She cocked her chin and smiled. "Maybe you want to bring a pair home to replace the ones you're missing."

The mere idea sent a shaft of grief through me. Tiki was coming home!

I shook my head. "Lady Sapphire is a valuable purebred, and my cat is . . . very territorial. But maybe Keone could bring his mom one for Christmas?" I was throwing my boyfriend under the feline adoption bus, but honestly what was one more when Ilima Kaihale had several already? "Your mom already has a few. Surely another would hardly . . ."

Keone shook his head regretfully. "The family has cut her off from getting any more. She loves them but can't keep them locked up inside, and they hunt the songbirds that come to her feeder and chase the neighborhood chickens. Myself, I don't have time for a pet with my work schedule, so I can't take one."

Dr. Hanson nodded. "I get it, but I have to try. So many beautiful cats, so few homes for them."

I was curious about what was inside the nearby barn. Though Dr. Hanson seemed honest and open, maybe our target animals were stashed away somewhere. "Can we tour the outbuildings, too?"

"Sure. One of the barns is primarily storage—the smaller one—but the other is where we keep cats in need of medical care and those that aren't socialized enough for the cat run."

"That's what you call this big cage?"

"That's what it is. They have room to run, climb, play, lounge. It's the closest thing to freedom that we can give them, and still keep them safe and contained."

"Safe?" My attention focused as we followed Dr. Hanson out, brushing cats off our legs and shutting the door behind us. "Safe from what? What is a threat to cats? I heard they have no predators in Hawaii."

"Humans. There are cat haters out there," she said darkly. "I'll say no more on the subject."

Dang it. She didn't want to vent about that, and it was an important line of inquiry for our cat hunt.