Many years ago, when I first adopted Kallie (RIP, my girl) she took off. I only had her for a month. She wandered into our garage crying up a storm. I took her to the vet after I decided she was mine and they said she was at least two years old and malnurished. I thought she was only a few months old at that point. Anyway, I looked everywhere for her and then one Friday night, three months later, she came back, all bloodied. I rushed her to the emergency vet and they thought she had tangled with a fan belt or barbed wire. She got her first shave that night. I was lucky enough to have her for another 11 years and what a joy she was.