M.I.A.

Last seen strolling out the front door of the tower, confidently [or obliviously] ignoring importunings to return inside.

sigh.

Well, we knew she'd have to begin the outdoor exploration sometime. We would have delayed exploration for a few days more, but just hope she makes it back. She's been gone, now, a full 24 hours.

I try not to think about the red fox we saw - two days ago - trotting across our front pasture.

I try not to think about the possibility that she may not come home.

I try not to think about whether it is better to find her little body or to never know whether she made her way to another home, or is hungry, cold, frightened. . . .

Right. We're not thinking about that. Remember?

Come home Pookie. Even Luther misses you - alright, we know Luther misses you - but even we [could be said to] miss the crazy going's on of the daily hiss-bat-and-bark evening show. After a fashion.

sigh. There's no easy exit to life, is there? Even for a 16-year old cat.