Vacation Countdown: 3 days!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Three more days before I am walking along the ocean floor.
Gazing into the endless horizon.
Watching hermit crabs in their constant quest for larger accommodations.
Collecting shells, sea glass, interesting bits of rocks. . . .
Only three more days.
Until then, however, we are living in the never ending lost and found.
Lost glasses were the focus of yesterday's shenanigans.
Keith's.
Again.
Em's cell phone dominated our discussions for the previous week.
And then, of course, there was my cellphone.
Lots of lost.
And then, suddenly yesterday, some found.
Specifically, a white cat.
A young, male, gorgeous, very well cared for all white, we're-thinking-male cat.
Not more than eight or nine months old.
Friendly, affectionate. . . .
Em mentioned to me yesterday, when she picked me up from work that she had watched a white cat attempt to chase squirrels up our linden tree in the front yard.
The squirrels won.
The cat made it about halfway up the tree before falling back to the ground.
But it kept trying, apparently.
Moxy.
It's got moxy.
I arrive home from dropping Em off to work, checking on my camera (another story all together), and learning what USIM means when it shows up on my cellphone, there was a white cat sitting under the tree in our yard.
Very close to the road.
Actually kind of scared me.
Parked the car, dogs in the kitchen window, bodies vibrating with excitement that Mummy was finally home and would soon be showering them with all the love and affection they feel they deserve.
And then, across the front lawn, a beeline towards me and Stephen, the little white cat.
Weaves in and out between my legs.
Rubbing up against me.
I couldn't help it.
I did.
I picked it up.
Purring, it rubbed its nose into my neck.
Already I was treading into very dangerous territory.
The perhaps-we-should-consider-keeping-this-cat-that-so-obviously-has-a-home-somewhere-but-it-really-seems-to-like-me.
I put the cat down when our neighbour from across the street came over.
She is the "knower of all things" in our little neighbourhood.
And I do mean of ALL things.
If you want to know how come your neighbour just picked up stakes and moved without even putting their house on the market, or why the ignoramus up the street is such an idiot, or how come the people in the third house across the street are virtual shut ins, you ask our neighbour.
She is a lovely person.
A wonderful neighbour.
And you wouldn't believe how useful it is to have a knower of all things in your immediate vicinity.
She, too, noticed the cat around our area yesterday.
In her yard, in fact,
She and her husband are huge bird lovers.
In fact, presently there is a mama and baby woodpecker frequenting their bird feeders.
Meaning they don't want any cats in their yard.
Especially cats that scale trees.
While we talked about the cat, what to do, who to call, the little white cat jumped from my arms and rolled around in the driveway by my feet.
But it never left.
Frankie and Tikka were behaving as if Armageddon has suddenly arrived on our front lawn.
Carrying on, barking, howling, running from window to window like lunatics.
Stephen got the phone book and my cell phone and I called the SPCA.
Closed until today.
With our neighbour, we decided to walk over to the house where people moved without selling because apparently they were left another house and are renting this one.
Perhaps the cat belonged to one of the renters.
No such luck.
And while I was holding the cat, it spied a squirrel and off it went.
After speaking with the woman renting the house, I looked for the cat, but it was nowhere to be seen.
So I went back to my house.
Hadn't even been inside to see the dogs yet.
An oversight they made certain I understood would never happen again.
We had dinner.
Took the dogs for a run to the potato farm.
Frankie running through wheat fields so high all we could see where the very tips of his ears.
He's my little Wheat Baby.
After our walk, we returned home.
Keith had just finished cutting the grass.
I headed upstairs to continue working on a course proposal for an advanced film studies course.
Mer popped in at one point to collect Keith for a movie.
All while I sat at my computer, dogs at my feet, headphone in my ears listening to the BBC crime drama Above Suspicion.
My version of in-house-after-dark-not-at-the-beach peace.
Working on the extensive bibliography, lost in the land of crime dramas, I suddenly hear Stephen calling for me.
And walking down the stairs towards the front door to see the little white cat peering into our sidelight window.
Goblet on the inside staring back.
No hissing.
No growling.
None of the weird things strange cats do upon meeting one another.
Stephen collected a container with food and water and we took the cat to the back deck.
And spent the next half hour or so debating about whether or not we should keep it in house overnight.
I was concerned for the cat.
Our pets are of the curious type and there was no way anyone would be getting any sleep if the cat was in the house overnight.
So we did all we could to make it comfy on the deck.
Food, water, blankets.
And off to bed I went.
Troubled.
Feeling terribly.
Mulling over how I could get the cat in the house without creating ructions with the rest of the animals.
I never did come to a solution.
And this morning the cat wasn't on the deck.
But I have a feeling I'll be seeing him later.
And taking him to the SPCA.
Not because I want to.
But because we are soon to be taking in Mer's Jasper and I don't know if we could manage four cats.
Yes.
Mer and Jasper.
Moving in September 15th.
Stephen being Stephen we headed to the vets on Tuesday with Mer and Jasper.
For shots and checkup.
Jasper, not Mer.
Although I thought about it.
Jasper is in perfect health.
Good news for Mer who spent the entire drive worried the vet was going to take Jasper from her, and accuse her of being a "bad mother."
He's scheduled to be neutered September 2nd.
And then he'll be moving in with us.
Beginning the process of introductions with the rest of the animals.
Apparently this is quite a long, involved process if done correctly.
And not the Dawne's approach: put them in the house together.
Wait until the dust settles and everyone has found their corner.
Title Lyric: Lost and Found by Leona Lewis
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