Crazy Cat Lady.

I could be talking about myself. But I'm not. I woke up last night thinking to myself that the woman who called me and said Will was dead has him. I think he was catnapped. It's the only thing that makes any sense. People on the street who know him -- yes, by name-- and who remember exactly when they last saw him, also think that he's inside someone's place. I think it's hers. I know that philosophically some people think cats should be indoors only. I don't believe that. Some cats, maybe. But so far, none of mine. Even with the multitude of laps I've done around my neighborhood, I don't believe it. Will is what this one woman called a dog cat. He loves dogs and behaves like one. He's fearless. But smart and resourceful. And so is this woman. She saves animals. She took her dog around looking for Will. She thinks the crazy cat lady has him, too. She's met a lot of crazy people during her rescues. The odd thing we both honed in on is that the "your cat is dead" woman is the only person who didn't leave her phone number and didn't seem to care about how I felt. Very suspicious. And weird. And suspicious.

I am a bit worn out from all of this searching. And packing. And I still have a lot of packing left to do. I still need more boxes. I thought I bought enough. But so far there are 14 boxes of books and I'm not done yet. I haven't even started my bedroom or the kitchen. I'm worried things are going to get lost. And I won't be able to find what I need. So I'm packing pretty carefully and trying to get rid of some stuff, too. I have to figure out what I can bring with me (not much) and what I can store. I guess it's good practice for New York. I just hope I get there. Because there's no coming back here. The rents here have skyrocketed. My place is huge. And the rent is only $1876. Not that I could afford it by myself. And not like I want to live with anyone else any more. Except someone I'm in a relationship with. But that's been about as easy to find as a job that pays me enough to stand still. To sit still and write. I worry that Will knows something. That he won't leave because we shouldn't be leaving. I shouldn't be leaving. Yesterday I contacted a pet psychic. She has a high recovery rate aat being able to find lost pets. And let you know why they're lost. Laura thinks Will does not want to move. He loves it here. He has a whole community of people who know him and love him. Which I get. It's pretty funny. Everyone I ask about him is like, "Oh, you're Will's owner. Iove that cat." And then they go on with some long diatribe about how their dog loves him etc. Guys and girls. People have even left pictures of him in my mailbox. I hope this psychic lady can find him. She only costs $45. Which is a small price to pay in the grand scheme of things. Color copies at Kinko's cost more. Well, when the cashier charges you the right amount. Fingers crossed.