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March 17, 2015
I've been up with house lights on and coffee brewing for 45 minutes. There's no sign of Mr. Ronald, the cat. I'm getting more anxious. Here's what usually happens: I reach a point where I have to go and look for my precious cat. I start to get dressed and bundled. As I'm about to put on my last boot, Ronald appears and all is well. This has happened about 10 times in his short life. He's about 18 months old. Another cat drama. I love this cat, but do I enjoy all this drama? Where the hell is Ronald?