Sunday, January 07, 2007
And I can't get enough of these little guys, of their wet noses, or velvet ears, or soft naked bellies, even their wheezey, regular snores when they're sleeping cuddled next to me. Their liquid brown eyes follow me worriedly as I clean the house, drag out the suitcases, and make piles everywhere. So I stop each time I walk by then, and smoosh their faces, scritch the top of the heads, tell them they're best dogs in the world. But it just sucks, because I can't make them (or me) feel better by making sure we've got each other's emails, or promising to write and call regularly, or even by telling them when I'll be back. All they know is that something big is going on, their little world is changing, and I might be leaving. I guess that's sort of all I know, too.