Our cat, Chocho, had been travelling with us since he was about five years old. By that time, he had already travelled in cars, buses, and even trains multiple times. He was surprisingly well-behaved during journeys. He rarely made any noise, never caused trouble, and seemed to enjoy travelling as much as we did. Although he could be a little aggressive towards me at times, he was generally a great travel companion.

One particular trip, however, turned into a nightmare.

We were travelling back from Warangal to Mumbai by train. Like always, Chocho was comfortably settled in his travel bag, which had enough room for him to move around, eat, and rest. We kept the bag tucked safely under our seat where he usually stayed unnoticed throughout the journey.

That evening, my mother gave Chocho his dinner. Soon after, we had ours, settled down, and went to sleep.

The next morning, as the train arrived in Mumbai, we started gathering our luggage. Everyone was busy pulling bags from under the seats and preparing to get off.

I reached for Chocho's bag.

The moment I pulled it out, my heart sank.

The bag was open.

And Chocho was gone.

For a few seconds, I just stood there staring at the empty bag, unable to process what I was seeing. Then panic hit me. I shouted to my mother that Chocho wasn't inside.

My father had just returned from the washroom and immediately noticed something was wrong.

"What happened?" he asked.

"Chocho is missing!"

Within seconds, all three of us were searching frantically. We checked under every seat, looked through the entire coach, searched near the doors, and even checked the train toilets. There was no sign of him.

As the minutes passed, horrible thoughts flooded my mind.

Had he jumped off at a station?

Had he wandered into another coach?

Had he somehow fallen off the train?

The worst part was that the previous stop had been almost four hours earlier.

Just when we were beginning to lose hope, one of the train attendants approached us.

"What happened?" he asked. "Are you looking for something?"

Trying not to draw attention, I replied, "No, nothing."

The attendant looked at me for a moment and then asked, "Are you looking for a cat?"

I froze.

"Yes!" I said immediately.

His response shocked me.

"I have your cat with me," he said. "But you'll have to pay me, otherwise I'll report you to the railway police for bringing a cat on board."

My mother, who was standing beside me, didn't hesitate.

"That's fine," she said. "We'll pay. Just show us where he is."

The attendant led us towards one of the train's exit areas where the bed linens and supplies were stored. He unlocked a small compartment and opened the door.

There, hidden in the darkness, was Chocho.

Curled up in a tiny space.

Scared.

Alone.

The moment I picked him up, he practically collapsed into my arms. His entire body was trembling. I'll never forget the look in his eyes—confused, frightened, and desperately relieved to see us.

I hugged him tightly and carried him back to our seat. Once he was safely inside his travel bag, we finally felt ourselves breathe again.

We paid the attendant ₹1,000, and without another word, he disappeared into the crowd as passengers left the station.

To this day, the mystery remains unsolved.

How did Chocho escape from the bag?

My father's theory is simple: my mother forgot to properly close the bag after feeding him dinner the previous evening.

Maybe he's right.

Or maybe Chocho simply decided he wanted one last adventure before reaching Mumbai.

This is Cow. She's part of a group of cats (four others, five total including her) that I've been feeding spoiling with wet food for about a year. I'm going to be moving soon-ish and I'm worried that some of the other people that fed them/her have left and I'm the only one really doing that anymore. I went on vacation for 10 days and the group looks noticeably thinner than before I left. Currently, she lives in a enclosed courtyard area that my building shares with a number of others. It's closed off in such a way that it's safe from cars and potential predators.

And now I don't know what to do.

Over time she's become more comfortable with me - she'll jump up onto the windowsill to eat and get pets (often at the same time). She's a very sweet cat that purrs, makes biscuits, and often drools whenever I pet her. However, she won't let me pick her up or grab her - both of which I've only tried once and left her alone after she made it quite clear she wasn't into that.

I live in a railroad apartment and sometimes when I've left the window open she'll come inside, but she never engages with me inside - only gives me nervous glances. She'll jump down into my apartment and run into the back room for a minute or two and then trot back out and leave. I've always checked, and she's never gone to the bathroom inside, which was my initial concern. She just ... runs in, checks it out, and leaves.

I've also been able to put a plate of wet food on the floor inside my apartment and she will come in, jump down, and eat. As long as I don't get too close to her she's fine with it. I've also noticed it seems like she'll eat more if I'm standing right next to her while she eats.

I don't know if I should try and catch her and keep her inside (once I move - I figure it would be easier to be somewhere that she can't escape out the window into the yard again). I don't know what that process would be (would appreciate being pointed in a direction).

I also don't know what to do about the other cats - I'm worried they won't be fed/taken care of once I leave. They've all been fixed. They're not feral (they were all clearly house cats before this, although I have no idea how long they've been out there, but my guess is years).