somewhere between a handshake and two kisses

I lose things.

I lost my first tooth before the tooth fairy could take it. Well technically I didn’t lose it, the maid at the hotel threw it away.

I lost my first camera on the steps of the Smithsonian Museum on our 6th grade trip to Washington DC.

I lost a jade stone from my mother’s Claddagh ring, that I didn’t have permission to wear, while walking home from school.

I lost my first (and last) pair of expensive sunglasses, just weeks after I purchased them, at the bottom of Kentucky Lake after diving right in with them still on my face.

I lost my favorite black dress that I wore to my best friend’s wedding.

I lost my only set of car keys in the sand on the beach of Carmel and had to have AAA come make a new set on site.

I lost the wedding ring my husband made me with his own two hands.

I have lost one of every pair of earrings I have ever owned, and the same goes for socks.

How do I handle being a loser… I try really hard not to get attached. Material things are just passing through. I love them as much as I can until they inevitably leave my possession and then I let them go… you know the saying.

But as of Friday January 11th, 2013, I have to add Lou, my cat (aka: The Loser) to my lost list…

However, not surprisingly, I am having a really hard time applying my “let it go” philosophy to a member of my family…

Even though he was kind of like a drunk uncle who went on all night benders and came back in the morning stinky and surly…

…and then spent the whole day sleeping on the couch.

We have been through a lot together…

Since his disappearance, I lie awake at night thinking about possible scenarios of what might have happened to him.

I wake in the morning from dreams of finding him.

We return to our old house and shake food at least two times a day.

I tell everyone I meet that I am looking for my cat… My fat, stinky, grumpy, “watch out he bites,” cat.

To add to the hollow heartache, and the sense of failure as a pet owner, our 15 month-old son walks around the house meowing, in the exact pitch that Lou would meow, as he looks for his cat too.

I try to tell myself that Lou is fine. He has been known to hang out with foxes. And he is a fighter…

But it has been really cold this past week, and even though he is a survivor, he does like his modern day comforts.

And he is not one to skip a meal.

So I am hoping he has turned on the charm and sweet talked his way in to someone’s home.

People say cats come back.

But I am not sure which is harder… thinking he may come back or trying to let him go.

And to be fair to myself… I did not lose The Loser.

He lost us…

So all I can do now is hope that he will find us again soon.

If you live near Western Avenue in Petaluma and you see a giant orange cat who looks lost please let me know. Thank you!