I paused on the main floor when I heard the bingo game, and sure enough mom was there enjoying the fun. The timing was perfect as someone won the hand, and I was able to quietly walk up to mom to let her know I had arrived to collect Elvis. She was, unsurprisingly, surprised to see me despite our conversation four hours earlier. I reminded her why I was there, and she asked if she should come up to the apartment with me. I suggested that I use her keys, get Elvis, and she could continue playing Bingo. I was kinda stunned that she was OK with the plan.
Upon entering the apartment, I closed her bedroom door so Elvis couldn’t hide under the bed. Then I took a quick look in the locked drawer (since I had her keys). There are smoked almonds, TP, her purse, keys, small boxes, a tiny address book with no entries, a wee notebook, etc. An odd assortment of things. Her checkbook for the Island bank is there too. There were four checks in it. I took two of them, and will stop payment on the other two. Not that she’s tried to write a check against the account, but this will keep that from being a possibility and will, finally, remove this worry from my vat of stress. Otherwise, the apartment did not smell like overused litter box (Hooray!), and there was nothing to raise my eyebrow except five empty Almond Rocca cans she has purchased and enjoyed. Recall how much chocolate she received for her birthday 3.5 weeks ago!
Elvis tried to hide next to the chair he’d been sitting in when I entered the apartment. He is a sweet boy and did not struggle when I picked him up and placed him in his carrier. We returned to the main living room so mom could say “Goodbye.” Lots of the residents were delighted to have him there and sent good wishes for his dental work. I apologized for interrupting the game, and was waved off with, ‘Don’t worry, Be happy.’
After a fairly quiet car ride, Elvis settled in the downstairs of our house with barely a slink. We played on the floor, he shed on a quilt top, ate some kibble, and now, I’m fairly sure, is in his safe spot amongst the pool table ball-return ramps. He has to be at the vet by 8AM.
I was glad to see mom enjoying an activity, even though it meant she’d forgotten I was picking up Elvis. It was actually easier in a number of ways. There was no risk of stressful conversation. Mom wasn’t compelled to help, which, bless her heart, many times can have the opposite effect. I got in and out in WAY less time than I estimated, allowing me to avoid the worst of our afternoon traffic. Mom continues to be sweet, kind and appreciative. My plot, I mean plan, is to drop Elvis off during a lecture mom always attends on Fridays. I’ll then let her know he’s back, and slide out again telling her I’ll see her for High Tea the weekend after next.