Wow. I am constantly amazed at how the fates have aligned with this move. The condo sold in three days, we close on Thursday. My visa and work permit are both in order. I have found a place to live for a month. My house in an uproar, with furniture being sold, items placed into storage, or being shipped to the Salvation Army.
The sad note is, however, that I cannot take my cats with me. There is no quarantine anymore, but they would have had to have been chipped and had certain shots six months ago in order to travel with me. That, and most of the places I am looking at in the UK to rent don't accept pets, and I don't want them to suffer the trauma of being carried in the hold of a 767.
So, this morning I await a friend from the Renaissance Festival who has graciously agreed to adopt my two kids. The parting is bittersweet. Jake has been with me for 14 years, ever since he followed my ex home from the 7-11 in Orlando. We were determined not to keep him, but two weeks later he was at the vet and being fixed, and he has been a part of our lives ever since. If the ex had a different living situation, where he could separate his dog from the litter box, Jake would be going with him, and still might eventually. The newer cat, Essie, I think could survive just about anywhere. But, as the ex said on the phone just now, "this seems so final."
And so I wait. And feel a tear begin to well up in my eye.
Yeah, I am a sentimental old fart at times.
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1 comment:
I feel your sadness... honestly...
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