Dot wishes the lights in my studio were part of our home automation system.
That way, I’d be able to shut them off from my couch, far from the switch near the door.
She slept with her paw covering her eyes for a while before shifting to a different position. It’s her favourite, curled up with her face smooshed into the blanket.
A few weeks ago, I moved my monitors 6 inches. Even though it was a very subtle shift, the dynamics of my desk changed. Dot kept looking at some blankets that were folded in the corner then walking away.
Earlier this week I put the blankets in a box.
Within about five minutes, as I suspected there was also a cat in the box. It’s her new favorite place. Boxes are the best!
It’s still amazing to me how much Dot has grown and adapted to life as a solo cat over the past few months. She loves evening lap time with a hand-knit blanket (in progress) and E next to us.
We miss Shadow, we always will. Grief is complex. I still think that this ball and box (and button) analogy is the best I’ve ever read to describe it. I like to imagine I carry one box with balls (of varying size) for each grief. Sometimes the balls careen off each other and tip off the button to bring memories of both to the front of my brain. This week I’ve been remembering fondly both good times Shadow … and my Great Aunt (1921-2004). I’ll be the first to say it’s an odd combination but these are comforting memories and I hope both knew how much I loved them.
While I’ve yet to get the hang of Thursdays, Dot has them figured out.
She spent a nice chunk of this afternoon curled up on my lap.
