Another day stretches out as I move from one view to the next, window to window, watching for Camilla. If I call her (Milla, milla) outside, I start to cry. This has happened on my watch.
Salem joined me in the front yard yesterday. A perfect day, breezy, high 70s in the shade. A new bug repellent is working well, and a good book to take me away from the moment. Crook Manifesto by Colson Whitehead.
I did the math, and Salem is about fifteen and Bailey, ten. They still spar as they have always done, but they miss Camilla who is only three. Bailey's playmate, Salem's idiot child.
Salem insists on being on the high deck even when it's too damn hot. She can see the whole backyard from there. Bailey patrols when he is not sleeping, more than usual. Me too. I have to go to the vet today to get the monthly flea pills, and I know I will cry some more when I tell them that I will only need two doses instead of three.
This is the last photo I have of all three. It rained all weekend, and Camilla was bored and sick of being inside. Here she's making a pile of pies just before the weather broke, and she ducked out the cat door for some fresh air and freedom a week ago, Monday, around sunset.
5 comments:
I'm very sad that she's still missing. Hoping for the best.
I’m so sorry and am praying that she has found her way home again…
Deb~ I'm so sorry this is happening for you. I'm still hoping she gets home soon. xo
There's nothing worse than the watch and wait while clinging to hope. I hope she returns soon acting like she doesn't know what all the fuss is about.
How I come here with trepidation and fear. The aching sense of loss stirs the losses and longing for closure we have encountered throughout our life. May she return and be found.
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