I went to the pool to feel the sun on my skin.

It was okay. I read the book someone gave me on pet loss and listened to a podcast someone recommended on losing a pet. When I opened the door to my apartment I was heartbroken that Linus didn’t run to greet me. I double checked but he didn’t come out from my bedroom or narwhal. I remembered why he couldn’t and it hurt. Then I looked for Lucy in her 6-8 usual spots, even hesitantly opening the closet door hoping I wouldn’t find her on his bed. She wasn’t there either so I started to panic a little until I went over to the windows.

I had tossed some of these beds in the corner because they were his and I wasn’t sure if I wanted to donate them or what. (And, listen, Lucy has SO MANY beds that I thought I’d pass these on to other kitties). The grey one is especially tough to look at since that’s where he spent most of his time when he got sick. They’re hidden behind the couch and I can’t even see them but something told me to lift the beige bed and sure enough, there she was. I haven’t laughed or smiled much in the last week but this tickled me.

And now I can’t donate the beds.