Spottswood

I mentioned recently that Spottswood had slipped out the house at some point last week. We suspect that he ran out when Ian was moving his plants indoors due to the freezing weather.

Ian spotted Spottswood in the barn the next day, but Spottswood hid before Ian catch him. Spottswood appears to have left the barn and...and that's it.

He's missing and we have no idea where he is. Spottswood is such a skittish cat that he transformed into something almost feral when he escaped outside.

We plan to check the neighborhood animal shelter tomorrow, but it's looking pretty grim. I doubt we will ever see him again.

I can't believe I'm typing this, and I've been holding out hope for days, but it looks like this is Spottswood's memorial post.

He was a fabulous, funny, wide-eyed little cat who clung to Ian and played happily with the dog. He slept above Ian's head every night and was constantly at our feet.

We loved him and we wish he was still with us.

So long, little buddy.

The Evils of Western Medicine as Told by Ian

Laura: I need more allergy medicine. My nose is running.

Ian: I don't believe in pharmaceutical medicine.

Laura: Why not?

Ian: With allergies, you just need to be exposed to the allergen and let it run through you. Sure, you'll have a runny nose for a few weeks. But then you'll adjust and your allergy will go away.

Laura: I don't think so.

Ian: Why not?

Laura: I got sick with sinus infections at least twice a month for years until I started prescription allergy medication. Plus I got headaches every day. Medicine stopped all of that.

Ian: You should have just put up with the allergies. Medicine doesn't really do much of anything. People need to stop relying on that stuff. I think it makes their allergies worse.

Laura: Uh huh.

Ian: It's almost time to go.

Laura: Yeah.

Ian: My head's starting to hurt.

Laura: You better take your sinus medicine.

Ian: Yep, I will.

Laura: ….

Ian: I should probably stop railing against the evils of medication right before I take my pills.

Two Cats One Barn

I briefly mentioned once that Harvey lives outside now due to his inability to use the damn liter box. The liter box he had used just fine for five damn years. 

And so, he was tossed out into the wild outdoors, returning home twice a day for food, water, and back rubs. It worked out well. Really, really well.

Ian: "Since Harvey moved outside, he's become our best pet."

Laura: "Yeah, he has."

Ian: "Because we never see him."

Laura: "It's awesome. I love not seeing him. The pets are gross and annoying. Why did we get them?"

Ian: "I don't know. We should give them all away. Except Harvey."

We love you, Harvey.

It was all going swimmingly until Harvey suddenly went missing. Ian lamented that Harvey was dead and done for, but my parents have had outdoor cats forever, and I knew that they always go missing at some point. And they always return.

I said such things with confidence, but on the inside I worried that Harvey was dead and done for.

Two days passed. I found the Apple TV remote we had been searching for.

Laura: "Guess what I found?"

Ian: "Harvey?!?!?!!!!"

Laura: "No. The remote."

Ian: "Oh."

And so I stomped on the last shreds faith and hope in Ian's soul.

Until he wandered into the barn and heard a distinct "meow." An ornery, curmudgeonly, crank of a meow. Harvey had climbed into the barn loft and had no idea how to get back down.

Ian climbed into the loft and hauled him down the ladder. He then found me in the house and jubilantly lifted a filthy Harvey into the air, cobwebs clinging to his sides, the same cranky look in his eyes. Our Harvey was home.

And we all lived happily after.

Except two days ago, Spottswood went missing. It seemed inconceivable because Spottswood is terrified of the outside world.

But, alas, we suspect he streaked out the door two nights ago when Ian was bringing in his plants due to the freezing weather.

And this time, I bald-faced lied to Ian.

Laura's Voice: "Don't worry. Spottswood will come back."

Laura's Brain: "Shit. Spottswood's dead."

Spottswood's so skittish that we both decided something horrible had happened to him. But yesterday morning Ian was again in the barn and, amazingly, spotted Spottswood.

Spottswood, being the brave cat he is, raced for cover.

I am Spottswood and I am brave.

And so here we are: Spottswood continues to streak away whenever Ian calls for him.

Ian alternates between anxious worry and exasperated disgust that Spottswood's stuck in barn prison.

Forever?

Hopefully, at some point, I will have a positive update.

In the meantime, Ian still stalks the barn liked a crazed blood hunter hoping to catch his prey, and Spottswood is trying to call Merry Maids because his new home is gross. I'll toss some Lysol and blankets in there later tonight.