Cat Scan

It was June 2nd when prancy little Miss Madison left our unhappy little family (with Martin in distress and me in shambles over his anxiety attacks). And it wasn't until June 20th that Martin had a "breakthrough" (as shrinks call it) and was cured of his overwhelming anxiety of the previous two months.

Up until that point, he was very careful when upstairs (in the vicinity of Madison's old room). He still wouldn't go near her room, despite my pathetic attempts at trickery to lure him in. And every time he entered or left my room, he did the whole slinking, neck-stretching, head-bobbing with eyes dilated routine, carefully scanning that doorway down the hall to see if Madison would suddenly appear and chase him down.



Is she under the bed?







Behind the door?













On the bed?
Over here?















Over there?













Is it really safe in this room now? I don't believe you. Bye.

So that's how he was for nearly three weeks. Then, on June 20th I was working in my home office (adjacent to Madison's room) when I heard a thump and saw Martin had jumped off of something and was in the hallway behind me. I went into Madison's room and checked for his body heat on the ottoman and the bedspread. Sure enough, he'd been sleeping between the pillows, right on Madison's bed!

That's when I knew he was cured of his mental ailment. My Martin was back to being his old self again. I was so happy I picked him up and hugged him.

(Meanwhile, I'd been begging Madison's evil adopter via email to please return her to me. She was such a hateful, selfish woman. I wanted to make sure that my precious baby was placed in a good home instead of with the wicked witch of the east, and I couldn't live with myself until I'd accomplished that. What an ordeal. But that's a whole other store for another blog. . . .)