[Found it]

I found Mafalda (my cat) on the 21st. I was taking my dog Jack outside--I had taken the day off from work--and called Mafalda more out of reflex than anything; by then I was pretty sure he wasn't coming back--he'd been gone for almost four weeks. But he started meowing back at me when I called his name.

At first, I thought I was hallucinating; but I kept hearing him, so I rushed inside with the dog, hobbled up the stairs, shoved my shoes on as best as I could, and hobbled back down, almost falling on my face. I started making my way down the shared strip of grass, still calling, and he meowing back, until I came to the unit that had reported fat cat sightings, and there he was, hiding in the bushes. I dragged him out and took him out, cursing him all the way back.

He's lost some weight; his butt is pretty bony, but he still has a big floppy belly.

My fat cat has gone missing =(

Monday night, he didn't come to bed. I figured he was downstairs getting something to eat. I woke up Tuesday morning and realized he hadn't been to the bedroom all night. We've posted some flyers and Mr. Sporks is checking out shelters right now. I have no idea how he got out of the house.

Finally some good news from Brazil...

My parents moved to Brazil a while ago, trying to find work. I don't know if it's better or worse than Chile, to be honest. They've had a terrible time there, and part of my own stress these days comes from worrying about them, and sending them large (for me, anyway) chunks of money each paycheck. For a long while I was basically sending them my entire paycheck; right now, my sister and I are taking turns (we were both sending them money every month for some time). Every time I hear from them, my stomach turns and binds up, stressed and worried about what's gone wrong now.

Until two days ago, when I finally got some news that made me smile...I was chatting with my mom on Google Talk, listening to Joan Manuel Serrat, which of course always makes me think of my dad, and asked her how he's doing.

"He's doing great," she said, "right now he's in a class with five young men singing John Lennon's 'Imagine.'"

Years earlier, I remembered, he'd tutor young people who were preparing for their English university exams. He'd always have a unit on the Beatles.

His students always thought he was the best.