In fact, I get more upset leaving Luna behind. I just know the Peanut is going to be alright. She's resilient, she's easygoing, she's human. Luna is the one I worry about. Will she eat without us? Will she poop without us? Will she be happy without us? I can't explain it, but my first pet gets more babying than my first baby.
So it surprised me on the day before our move, when we shipped Peanut off with my mother-in-law, same as we do whenever we need or have a weekend away, that I got emotional.
It was puzzling, yet simple to explain. In that moment, as we strapped her into her car seat and she looked at us and waved bye-bye, I realized something so profound in its finality that I became overwhelmed, a sobbing mess: She will never step foot in this building again. That's it. The only home she's ever known her entire little life, left behind in the rear view mirror. We were staying to pack those annoying final dozen or so boxes and then ultimately move to our house. She was gone. Her last moments, her last memories, her last meal in our condo were already in the past.
And that's why I became so emotional. It was her first 'last.' For all of the times over the past few months that we said we were 'so ready' to leave Hoboken for more space, a backyard, a driveway, an easier daily routine, I was finally sad. Not because we were leaving, but because she was leaving. It wasn't doubt, just sadness. For the end of an era. Not in our lives, but in hers. Peanut: Born in the city, raised in the suburbs.
|She feels fine... and has settled in nicely|