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Leaving

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Whenever we leave the cats are the first to protest. They gather. They know we are headed out. It’s the suitcases. That is the essential difference from a day trip. And they are smart enough to know full well what a suitcase implies. Sometimes they lie inside the bag as though we would pack and take them too. Other times they just gather outside the bedroom door and lie forlorn. Nutley lay upon the stair head hanging in resignation. I know it. They know it. And we all miss each other before anyone is out the door. Pitiful. You bet! We are away this Xmas. The cats miss us as we do them. We do our best. Someone loses and some win. Bittersweet.

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