Um...guess what....the prodigal returns.
He's been living up the street for almost a month...turns out we actually had a call from the guy who thought he had him a few weeks ago. He'd said he'd call back but never did; he'd lost our number. I have no idea why they decided to try again, but they just drove up with him this evening...
I thought I'd looked everywhere!
Actually, it has been A Day.
All day long.
The Family Drama continued with renewed vigor, and J. tried valiantly to deal with it...God save us from dementia.
And we shoe-horned in other complications here and there with my business, orders, jobs, juggling, all between phone calls...
Then a while ago we got a call that while his mom and her caregiver had gone to visit Dad at the nursing home (he had a stroke in February), their house was broken into. Someone used one of the garden tools to break two windows in the attached garage and steal some things...guess they'd been watching her schedule, which WAS way too regular.
So there were all the additional calls back and forth, trying to find out what happened and if his mom's OK; she insists in staying in the house tonight, and it's worrisome of course, though the windows are repaired and the garage is padlocked...
And THEN the people show up with Frick. Yes, it's really him...we looked at his markings and there's no doubt in the world. He'd apparently hidden in the sewer for two days; they found him July 4, and he disappeared from here July 2. (Think we ought to change his name to Gypsy, or Vagabond, or, as J. says, "Rover"!)
After a bit of hissing and spitting, Squirt seems to recognize her brother--they're playing, just like they used to. I hope he calms down a bit, though! He's the growly one now...
And so my poor exhausted husband has gone to bed.
As Miss Scarlett always said, "Tomorrow is another day...if I think about it today I'll go crazy!"