...it's the other!
Alfred is home after his operation and hobbling about. The injury was a lot worse than the vet had originally thought, but after a weekend living in a makeshift kitty-hospital in our bathroom, he's starting to walk again and the vet is really pleased with his progress.
However, our other cat, Higgins, is now awol and hasn't been seen since yesterday. I'm already totally frantic, he always comes home for dinner without fail. Only exceptions were one time when he was stuck on our neighbour's roof and another time when he managed to get himself trapped in an empty half-renovated house a couple of doors down. He's a total homebody and quite the wuss, he'd never stay out if there were any way of getting home.
It's only been a night but I'm honestly an emotional wreck right now. I don't do optimism very well. I just can't tell myself everything's going to be OK and allow myself to relax for fear of having let my guard down to the alternative outcome. I don't know why I do this, it's just as much of a rollercoaster whichever way you look at it. I don't know why I so often chose to fear the worst. It's definitely all part and parcel of the same issue I have with goals and dreams. If only I could get a handle on my emotions.
In the meantime I just want my daft wee cat to come home.