Smokey's OK. Dippy had me track down a neighbour and he found Smokey in a box in a closet. The neighbour was in a wheelchair. The cat promptly ran off down the hall.

I thought Smokey would hide under the bed or behind the sofa. I called him. I looked around. I slid open the door to see if a cat would come running out.

Smokey's all right. His mother's another story. His mother is a nervous wreck. (When isn't she?) OK she's a nervous wreck knowing she could have killed a cat tonight and has to confront a man who frightens her tomorrow. And she's getting those burning pains again, for which nothing will be done.

There is a thing more crippling than cerebral palsy: the prison of your own mind.