Please Come Back To Me, Buster

My husband and I share our lives with cats. It's just what we were meant to do. We adopted a little orange tabby 12 years ago and she had a surprise inside - 3 kittens, who were born in the back of my clothes closet (on my winter coat, no less). Buster was one of those kittens. He was a big, sweet, lovable kitty who slept on his back with his feet up in the air, snoring. He loved one of our other female cats, Shnookie, and doted on her no end.

Joe and I moved out here to a rural area so the cats would be safer - less traffic, less mean humans. We have some land around our house and Buster's territory was well within our property and he never, ever went close to the street, even when he would follow me up the driveway to the mailbox, he would stop at his territory line about fifty feet from the road, and wait for me there. We've been living here six years and sometimes he would spend the night away from home, but that was rare; usually he was lying on the sofa snoring away by midnight.

But Thursday April 29 he never came home that night and we have gone over every inch of our property looking and calling for him, we've driven around way outside his territory calling him too. He just hasn't come home. I know he did not run away, he's always been too much of a homebody for that plus he loves his cat-mom and Shnookie too much to stay away. He loved to jump up on my desk while I was typing and sit there until I brushed his coat until it shined.

I just can't seem to get over this. Our cat Alpo died last month and it hurt me terribly and I grieve over him still, but not knowing whether Buster is alive or dead or even worse, alive and suffering, is just about to kill me. I've been crying almost every minute I'm awake and I just feel dead inside except for the pain. I dream about him and I see him out of the corner of my eye all the time. I can't stop thinking about him and how life is going to be without him.

My husband tells me that I should not let this tear me apart this way, but how am I supposed to do that?

I know I have five more kitties who love me and depend on me (my eldest, Shnookie, is 18 years old but very lively) and I know that, and I know my husband needs me and depends on me too, but I just can't get past this point. When Alpo died I could reconcile myself to his passing but with Buster... it's just taken hold of me and I feel like it's going to weigh on me forever.

My friends feel bad for me but of course they have their own lives and I can't burden them. But I feel guilty even being alive when Buster may be out there hurt and alone and wondering why his human-mom doesn't come rescue him. I don't feel I have the right to ever be happy again.

I've had to euthanise some of my pet friends, and I've had one die in my arms. Neither of those was as soul-breaking as this.

I don't know what to do.