The cats knew this morning would come, one day. The first day the window won't open for their morning perambulations. The bear ate well, last night. Some blueberries and several frozen pumpkin pies (don't ask) made it into the trash yesterday. If I tie the bags tight, she takes them whole, back to her den. Somewhere out there, in the forest, there is a circle of paper and plastic containers, where she sleeps.
Dooley got adopted last night. I am very happy for him, he needs so much more attention than I can give him...Happy Days, Dooley.
And Max? He loves the cold. Barking keeps him warm at 7 in the morning. And the neighbors love it, too. Meanwhile, the stress I live in has lessened, a bit. The pleurisy lives on, but I am coughing well.
It is very cold for this time of year, but not as cold as the weather forecasters said it might be. The leaves are still green on the trees, some of them are. There was a small frost last night, and it sets the lifespan of the geraniums that thrive a crisp red in the fall air.
Georgia counts the days until Silverlock has a new home. As I try to plan a way to keep her. I will not succeed, but it will not be for lack of love. The ghost kitten is part of my life now...fleeting and immortal.