I’ll keep this short because too many words can ruin things.

I haven’t heard from Little Lassie’s birth family in over a year. Last mother’s day was our last contact when LL’s birth mom texted me and wished me a happy mother’s day. I responded in the like and then there was silence, until yesterday. Yesterday morning, I texted LL’s birth mom. I didn’t tell anyone about it. FlyGuy didn’t even know. I waited for the silence. I got a text back. She is fine. I am grateful. Maybe that is why texting can be good- too many words can ruin things.

A stray cat wandered on the homestead today. Its tiny, very vocal, hungry and extremely friendly. The cat is clean, but walks sideways like it has a hip or leg problem. It does not appear to be in pain. We fed it dog food- the only thing in the house that came close to cat food.

I can’t bring the cat inside. The animal shelters in the area will euthanize it right away if it needs medical care. We can’t afford vet bills right now. This is awful. I will obsess about this cat. We found 2 dogs on the property last summer and I’m still wondering about their whereabouts. FlyGuy grew up on this farm. He thinks the cat will be fine outdoors for its lifetime, although it may be an unnaturally short lifetime. Given the cats poor gait, I don’t know if its strong enough to survive. Then again, I feel like its been socialized because its so darn friendly toward people.

I asked FlyGuy if we should call the vet to see if anyone reported a missing cat. His response, “In 38 years, I’ve never seen a missing pet sign in these parts.” I hate this place. I’m at a complete loss. Advice welcome.

p.s. If anyone needs a lovely kitty we are in the SW part of rural VA, but I am willing to bring the cat to you, wherever you are.

We are in VA now. FlyGuy’s homestead is on 50 acres in the foothills of the mountains. Driving up to the house, the scenery was exactly the same as last year when we spent the summer here. I felt like I was entering an oil painting- nothing changes here. I can gaze out any window framing the yard and see vibrant colors and know that life is simmering just below the surface. I hear the birds, squirrels, deer, frogs and turkeys, but I can’t see them. Its an odd kind of vibrancy. I feel like an observer in an art gallery, appreciative of the art in front of me, but unable to become a part of it. I told FlyGuy it felt unsettling. He said to him it felt settling. At the moment, I miss my urban neighborhood and feel the need to people watch. If things go as normal, sometime today, I will make the transition from city mouse to country mouse and enjoy the peacefulness of being surrounded by the torrent of life felt, but unseen.