Still Searching... oh, WAIT A MINUTE

Well, he's still gone. My Edward kitty. We've put up signs and called all the neighbors. The girls and my husband have gone out looking under everything (it's amazing how many things there are to look UNDER for one orange cat.) We've looked at the animal shelter but he wasn't there.

Everyone has been so helpful. You readers have been amazing, both in the comments and in e-mail and I thank you. (especially Lisa, whose phone call I have listened to TWICE already. She likes the blog. I couldn't be happier.) I guess it's sort of a universal emotion --to love these little beings and to totally lose your mind when something happens to them. I told the people in my physical therapist's office today and a woman sitting there waiting just spontaneously offered up that she was having to put her dog down next week. I got all teary and the physical therapist was so flustered that he told me to sit down at the shoulder rehab machine. I'd have done it, too, because rehabbing this ankle is hard and it would be nice to feel successful at something. But he caught his mistake, dang it.

I seem to alternate between hope and despair. It wouldn't surprise me to see Edward sauntering in here in the next five minutes but I also pretty prepared that he's gone for good.

I don't seem to be being very... um, normal about this. I can't eat (much) and I can't sleep (much) but I do seem to be able to drink wine (much.) I keep asking myself, "is this too extreme of a reaction? Do NORMAL people do this? Do I need some sort of professional help?" (I am always on the lookout for needing professional help, you know. Some day I'm going to get a professional organizer to come help me --my emotions and memories are hopelessly jumbled and disorganized. Oh, you don't think they do that?

Now, there's a bummer. I was sort of counting on it.)

Anyway, I'll keep you posted if there are any developments but I can't write about this anymore because I am so, so sad. SO. SAD. I don't know if it's because of my strange childhood or what, but these losses seem to really hit me abnormally hard. Even for me. Like, I've been CLEANING all day. I'm almost caught up on LAUNDRY. If that's not a cry for help, I don't know what is.

Here's a couple of funny Edward pictures, just to remind us all the comedians come in all forms.

Here he is playing with Sydney under the door of the laundry room. He does this whenever anyone shuts a door on him. It makes me laugh every time.


Here is Edward about three days after we got him (we only got him in December of 2005 --I feel like he's been mine--or I've been his--for much longer) showing his typical stress level in the face of totally new and upsetting situations. (This picture also makes me laugh because my husband has this thing where it doesn't matter what he's doing, if a cat lays on him, he has to go to sleep. It's hilarious.)


One of the girls left a teddy bear on our bed. Edward decided this was for his benefit.


It turns out that you can pile a LOT of things on Edward before he decides he's had enough and moves.

Um.

Well.

As I was about to close this blog with the all time cute picture of Edward curled up with me, my husband yelled for me.

He had FOUND EDWARD.

He's a very sick kitty and get this, my VET IS COMING HERE ON A FRIDAY NIGHT.

I am freaking...

I am just...

I am sobbing.

That power of prayer thing, it'll get you in the solar plexus every single time.