I was just thinking about how quiet the house seems. For used to be border-line animal hoarders, 4 cats, 2 dogs, 1 bird, and 6 fish seems positively spartan. During the peak of our animal assistant days, we had 11 or so cats in the house (5 of them half-grown foster kittens).
(Actually, I’m lying about the quiet. Right this second Caesar the parrot is quiet, but she rips loose with a primal pterodactyl scream periodically throughout the day and keeps up a steady stream of maddening hissy noises. She is, thank the gods, in bed for the night.)
In times past, I’d fill the emptiness I feel after the loss of an animal companion, with another companion – or two. After all, there are so many animals that need homes out there. There is nothing like funneling your grief into a needy little kitten, or a brand new off-the-track greyhound. But, unfortunately, there is only so much attention (and money) to go around.
Tragedy can be an opportunity: To learn that we are resilient. To forge new relationships with family members. To connect with others with similar stories.
I’ve been putting in long hours writing lately, trying to work things out. About now, Deimos should be bugging me to stop – nosing me, saying that deep one syllable “Woof!” that he learned after living with us for a while. It made me laugh, made me react, and he loved it. OK, Deimos, I’m getting off the computer. Let’s go make some noise.