Whatever It Is, Continued

So as I said, as I was loading bags into the car on Tuesday morning and being lazy and piling them at the bottom of the front steps as I carried them out rather than taking them individually to the car on the pad, Sweet Pea managed to claw his way out of his carrier and take off for the barn. I believe the feeling that I experienced, watching this, is known as "stunned disbelief." If it isn't, I can 't come up with anything better.

Knowing what a complete and absolute waste of time it was, I followed him down the slope and got within ten feet of him as he sat in the doorway, but as I knew would happen - he might not be too swift mentally but there are no flies on Sweet Pea - as I got closer he bolted down to the crick and I turned around and went back to the house. I called B, who was going to come down to EL Paso with me and then drive the Volvo back and keep it for the winter, and she suggested I give it another 30 minutes and see if SP came back to the house. Again, knowing SP as I do, I was aware the chances of his coming back to the house to enter voluntary imprisonment in the dreaded black box for 12 hours were minimal, but I busied myself doing God knows what before calling her again for an update.

With hindsight, it probably (probably?) wasn't the best decision to have made, but on three hours sleep it seemed like a good idea at the time. "He'll come back to the house when he's hungry," B said, "and you can ask your tenants to feed him for a month or so and then come back out and get him." "Right," I say, thinking of Star Child awaiting my arrival that night and completely ignoring the fact that I know Sweet Pea won't go anywhere near the house if he knows strangers are in it and I'm not. "What's the worst that can happen?" I go on, Miss Stiff Upper Lip on Celexa and Wellbutrin. "He'll get eaten by a coyote or go feral. I'll pick you up in 15 minutes."

I leave a note for my tenants, who are still asleep, saying "You've got a cat" and explaining that he escaped, and go to pick up B, who is probably a better person than me to describe the subsequent drive to El Paso with me at the wheel. By the grace of something we make it to the airport unscathed and I get to Logan only an hour late, to be met by Big Thomas and Star Child, who has been waiting patiently for her Pamla, which, for the moment, makes it all worthwhile.

Again, to be continued. There's already lots more.