Keats is missing and has been since yesterday afternoon. He often hides inside the house but never past bedtime, and it’s entirely possible he got out between dogs and gardening and the sticky door that has to be latched really carefully in the humidity. But in the past even when he’s gotten out he’s always been curled up by wherever he got out between 2 and 4 am.
The system kids were up basically all night looking for him throughout the house and neighbourhood (I’m now officially the midnight prowler). By now I’d say there’s definitely something awfully wrong and it sucks. He’s my big snuggly boy and Noah’s boon companion and darn it, where *is* that cat?
To top it off we had the first dentist apt since the whole root canal experience today. Fortunately teeth and gums are all just fine, although we do need to get the crown we didn’t manage to get after the whole infection fiasco.
Noah is at least in good spirits now that I’ve returned. He wasn’t too pleased about me leaving (Carl scheduled stuff so he could watch him) and is watching me like a hawk, but a happy well-fed hawk. He does look for Keats now and then though.
If that darn cat’s gotten himself permanently lost I will be a mini wreck for a bit. Our loss quotient just still feels really full despite all the good things of the last two years. And of course I worry that he’s sick somewhere. Poor fat old boy.
