A piece of Ron, missing.

Daddy's Girl is missing (the tabby).  Ron is VERY upset.  "Don't you get between me and God" he warned.  "I'm not about to do that" I replied.  So, Ron is shouting tirades at God and threatening black masses (do I need to capitalize that?).

We don't know what happened.  She tried to eat Ron's TV dinner and he roared at her, she ran off.  We haven't seen her since last night, and it was "very" cold for Houston (freezing). 

"Ron" I told him bitterly "We shouldn't have kept saying we didn't care about the robbery, the cats were OK."  Now we don't know what happened. 

We had two trips from home today, and both drivers took a different route out of the subdivision.  I didn't see any road kill.  I didn't see Baby Girl, either. 

As you know, my neighbor is doing remodel work on his house.  He keeps two windows open during the day, while working, and shuts them at night.  I waited for him to open them today, figuring she went exploring and got caught.  Nope. 

I hope maybe she got stuck in someone's garage, the cat has no respect for property lines, and pretty fearless.  She loves to explore strange places.  Everyone went to work (those who work, one guy is retired and a couple stay at home moms), nothing. 

I don't know where she is.  Ron is really upset, but I'm repeating myself. 

Now, I have to admit, I didn't want her.  Bubba doesn't like other cats.  Bubba (the big black one in my slideshow) is my boy.  We are pretty bonded.  He doesn't cuddle, doesn't snuggle.  His idea of intimacy is standing next to my computer chair so I can stop my work, pet him, and talk to him.  When it's very cold, or I'm very sick, he will sleep in my bed. 

Last night, he did that.  He did that during today's nap.  Like I said, he's more "my" cat if you had to pick. 

Of course I love Baby Girl.  She won me over with her cute little meows and her curious spirit.  She spent a couple times in my lap, loved to climb on the back of my chair, and loved to watch me clean the litterbox.  I loved her but she wasn't "my" cat, and that was fine.  I love my Bubba, even if he isn't very snuggly.   His love language is bringing me dead sparrows, live other birds, and dead rats (please make them dead, I beg him). 

Baby Girl's love language is lying on Ron's chest as he lies in bed, purring.  She'll do that for hours.  She adores Ron, he is her whole world, and she's his. 

Ron's got a piece of him missing tonight, and it hurts to watch. 

To answer some questions I've already gotten: she was a rescue.  Rescues don't convert to "inside" when they've been out.  They had a cat door. 

She is very friendly.  Someone very well could have taken her. 

She also likes to chew on Christimas light cords.  Not a good hobby when it's hooked up to 120 volts. 

As I said somewhere else, the hits keep coming. 

I'm glad I took the maximum dose of my antidepressant this morning.  I had a feeling I would need it.