On the 10th of August I held open my front door for someone with two broken legs, and Bean ran out. He didn’t come home again.
On the 12th of August, the guy I had been sort of seeing (who I held open the door for, yes that’s right, I got dumped by someone with 2 broken legs. That’s a first).
On the 13th I got an email telling me I didn’t get a job I wanted.
That was the moment I curled up on my bed and cried.
None of it was insurmountable, but it was a lot, all at once, when you swim alone. It was a lot, all at once, when there’s no one to throw you a life preserver.
I survived. Gave up dating, I’ll keep looking for a new job. I got used to telling people that I only had 2 cats. Worried about Bean.
Yesterday evening, I got an email. It was from the microchip company. Bean was at the city pound and could I come and fetch him please. I did that this morning. He has been fed and brushed, his nails clipped and he’s been cuddled. He hasn’t stopped grooming himself. He’s already taken over the dog’s bed. Again.
3 months and 8 days.
Winds of change?