It's a damned good thing I finally figured out how to gracefully adapt to change. At least it feels like I have.
Really though, the past two years have been a crash course. Just two short years ago, our home was so much fuller, our lives so very very different.
The Boy, of course, left for college.
James, another young man about whom I've never blogged but who lived with us during his senior year in high school, departed for the Air Force the same month The Boy left. He's a story unto himself, yet one I have not found the words to tell.
Of our furry friends, I've often blogged. First went Detail, then Figero, and now Cosine. The end of an era. Our black and white trio of pets is now a poignant memory, a once in a lifetime alignment of the stars. It was a good run, a good run indeed.
We've been pet sitting Bonnie, the dog who lives behind us, since Friday evening. I think it has provided a nice transition for Dudley. It's been good to see healthy dogs play together and race around the yard chasing squirrels. They make a good surveillance team, sitting with us on the porch in full alert, ensuring nothing dangerous like a moth or an axe murderer has a chance to sneak up on us. We'll see how Dudley does when Bonnie goes home tomorrow evening.
Oddly enough, I feel pretty damed good. Maybe The Boy is not the only one who has grown over the past two years.