It’s probably no surprise to anyone that knows me, that I’m taking Owen’s move rather hard. Of course, I’m pleased for him and for Trinity. And I know that I’m sending them across town not off to some far flung war, but it’s hard.
I was doing fine until they showed up the other evening to take Daisy and Rascal back to the new place. That made it official.
Ernie and I cried like babies when they left.
I mean, we REALLY cried like babies.
It’s just a big change. I can’t begin to tell you how quiet it is without Daisy’s collar jangling as she taps across the floor. And given that Rascal was one of the most vocal of cats with the saddest meows possible, it’s become a very quiet house. No Owen thundering down the stairs two at a time, no Trinity walking more delicately downstairs, followed by Daisy’s tip taps.
Owen will never wander through the living room in his underwear playing Chet Atkins. I mean, that hurts.
Thanks for destroying the couch before you left, Rascal. And yes, we did send along his favorite grey blanket with him.
Onward. Quietly onward.