Eva’s Byte #282 – Lost in My Own Space
Ever since I made the difficult decision to assist my beloved 15-year-old feline, Hope, in crossing over the Rainbow Bridge, I’ve been lost without her and lost in my own space.
At this juncture in life and point in time, it isn’t feasible for me to adopt another. So, I consolidated and packed Hope’s favorite catnip toys in a container which rests on a storage box next to my desk. I donated food and cat litter. Hauled away, four cat perches. They’d endured the wear and tear of two feisty gals who’d climb to the top even at their ripe old age.
Lost…
A pet parent for so many years, I didn’t realize all the extra work involved until no longer required:
The storage closet next to where the litter box used to be doesn't need a weekly wipe down. I’m not vacuuming stray litter here and there around the clock. Upholstery and carpets are free of cat hair. The kitchen floor stays clean without washing it twice per day. I’ve closed certain doors, normally left open, so those two could explore secluded areas. Not that they couldn’t open the doors themselves if curiosity motivated them enough.
Housekeeping perfection was never a priority over cat-friendly surroundings.
Lost in my own space, filled with memories, I’m constantly reminded of how two furry companions made this place a loving home, on their terms.
In my capacity as a writer, I’m coming to a close in the white space occupied by chapter 56, part 3 of my Contemporary work in progress.
*My sincere appreciation if you’ve read this far.
Eva’s Authors Den Page: https://tinyurl.com/yycm7d2w
At this juncture in life and point in time, it isn’t feasible for me to adopt another. So, I consolidated and packed Hope’s favorite catnip toys in a container which rests on a storage box next to my desk. I donated food and cat litter. Hauled away, four cat perches. They’d endured the wear and tear of two feisty gals who’d climb to the top even at their ripe old age.
Lost…
A pet parent for so many years, I didn’t realize all the extra work involved until no longer required:
The storage closet next to where the litter box used to be doesn't need a weekly wipe down. I’m not vacuuming stray litter here and there around the clock. Upholstery and carpets are free of cat hair. The kitchen floor stays clean without washing it twice per day. I’ve closed certain doors, normally left open, so those two could explore secluded areas. Not that they couldn’t open the doors themselves if curiosity motivated them enough.
Housekeeping perfection was never a priority over cat-friendly surroundings.
Lost in my own space, filled with memories, I’m constantly reminded of how two furry companions made this place a loving home, on their terms.
In my capacity as a writer, I’m coming to a close in the white space occupied by chapter 56, part 3 of my Contemporary work in progress.
*My sincere appreciation if you’ve read this far.
Eva’s Authors Den Page: https://tinyurl.com/yycm7d2w
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