Because I was up way late, I over slept and did not let the girls out until 9 am, and in doing so, stepped in a pile of Rosie shit. I suppressed the gag reflex (you know how the saliva spigots turn on underneath your tongue when you are car sick and your mind becomes a kaleidoscope of nausea, horror, and disgust) and hopped to the tub to wash the foot off and then let the girls out.
I then wasted two hours trying to arrange to get my car out of the field.
I then went to get groceries, and I think Steve got out while I was bringing bags in, because he is nowhere to be found.
As such, I dutifully panicked, tore the house apart looking for him, and then went outside and walked the neighborhood looking for him. No luck. I was in such a froth looking for him that I slipped on ice and managed to hyper-extend my right knee. I don’t think there is any real damage, just some loose ligaments, but it feels a little wobbly from side to side and I have a bag of frozen peas on it and am waiting for one of the frat boys to bring down a knee brace. I’d go to a doctor, but I have had multiple knee injuries like this and even if it is something serious, they can’t do much but immobilize it in the short term and ice the hell out of it, so I’ll do that and see how it is tomorrow. Hopefully I won’t need to be fucking scoped. Again.
The frat boys are mobilizing with flashlights for a cat hunt, so if you are in my area and see a bunch of large football players wearing greek letters walking around the neighborhood ye3lling “Steve” and shaking bags of treats, it’s all good.
*** Update ***
He’s home. I left the back gate of the fence open and Walt and I were about to mobilize another cat hunt, looked out the sliding door, and there he was. He came in and rubbed all over the entire house and chirped everywhere, triumphantly announcing his return from the kitty crusades, jumped up on the table and had his dinner, and is now walking around the house chirping again.
I seriously can not describe how instantly I was transplanted to a dark place the moment he did not show up for dinner. All I could think was “I can’t fucking go through this again.”