Classic. I just spent the last 7 hours growing increasingly anxious and fretful about the whereabouts of one Miss Junebug LaRoo. I hadn’t seen her since last night, and usually even if she’s out hunting by the time I wake up, she comes back in for crunchies and morning meow. Some readers already know that Junebug is a bit of a wild thing, the label “domestic shorthair” bearing only the loosest association to what she is. She is rangy and scrappy and cannot be contained. Still, she loves me and Lola. She comes when she’s called. I won’t deny that I’m not yet recovered from my irrational sense of doom brought on by losing Butter, but still, not seeing the Bug for such a long stretch of time was just not normal. And there are rattlesnakes out there. And coyotes. And monsters.
In my worry, I haven’t been able to do anything productive all morning. I did a bit of listless pruning in the garden. Gathered eggs (pretense for checking to see if Junebug was at the barn). Made sure my water barrel for the bees is full (conveniently near another Bug-spot). But really I was too preoccupied with the missing cat to get anything done. Finally, after literally hours and hours of wandering around staring off into the forest and occasionally calling her name, I decided I should at least grab a book. If I wasn’t going to accomplish anything today, at the very least I could distract myself a bit.
Went upstairs to get said book, happened to look up (to a spot I’d already looked for the Bug earlier) . . .
Need a close-up?
“JUNEBUG!!” I hollered.
Gah! Well, at least now I can get some chores done. Happy Friday, all.