my kitty has returned home. Previously an indoor cat, he peed on my bed repeatedly so I decided he is now allowed to go outside. He was gone for approximately 30 hours, give or take. In that time I succeeded in not staying calm nor collected. Instead I became completely irrational and screamed at Dan that my kitty was dead and it was all my fault. Just another fine example of why I should never have kids. I'll become the spitting image of my grandmother who dutifully called the RCMP (cops in Canada) anytime we were 15 minutes late returning home from somewhere. Devlin is quite dirty and seems somewhat traumatized by the experience (he was hiding in the closet all morning) but likely not nearly as much as I was.