The Girl Without a Pearl Earring

I like to wear pearl earrings.  In my 20s I bought my first pair.  They were small, and had a beautiful pinkish blush to them.  Eventually I lost one of the pearls and went without for a while.

Then in my 30s, when I had a "career," I bought another pair of pearls.  They were a bit larger, brought a soft glow which I find about the most jewel-y jewelry I can wear day to day.

That pair met an untimely end last winter.  We were at the start of one of the many blizzards to accost our area.  I had a 4:00 hair appointment, and planned to zip straight home after.  As Alaina dried my hair I felt my earring loosen, and quickly I tightened it back to my earlobe.  I advised her to cancel her remaining appointments and get home and off I went.

Not two blocks away I needed to stop to clear the ice off my windshield wipers.  I popped out of the car, cracked the ice, then continued my trip home.  At the gas station I began pumping gas, then realized my earring was gone.  But where did it fall off?  The salon?  The side of the road?  The gas station?

Long story short, I never found it.  But I was determined to have a pair, so I trekked to a mall in South Bend.  I selected the jewelry store formerly owned by people from my former suburb (if you are from the Chicago area, you might remember "jewelry created for now, and forever"!).  I presented the remaining stud and requested a match.  They sent it off into the great unknown.

Weeks passed.  I called for an update.  No news.  Then I was notified that the matching earring was in.  Upon returning to the store, the manager formally opened a jewelry box with the old and the new earring -- glaringly unmatched!  I asked her "does anyone look at these when they come in, because I know nothing about it and I can see that that is NOT a pair."  Honestly!

More weeks passed.  Finally they did, indeed, match the earring.  I paid a small fortune for the privilege of once again having two glowing orbs on my lobes.

By now you are wondering why I am posting this on my Busy Solitude Farm blog, right?  Here is the rest of the story.

Remember Spot?  He likes to jump on my back when I am in the barn.  This evening I was closing their outside door and up he popped.  Egglebert was at my ankles, harassing me, so I was a bit distracted.

And suddenly I felt a little peck at my ear.  And when I reached up, my earring was gone.  It was nowhere to be seen in my clothes or on the bedding.  I think it is inside Spot.  And so I ask you...

Any chance it will pass?

Addendum, Thursday morning.  When I checked in the barn in the cage, nothing.  No, I mean literally nothing.  Spot got out!  So I am now resigned to the fact that if fate wants me to have that earring back, it will present it to me.  I'm not fighting this any more!