Monday, November 9, 2009
Yesterday I finally got to hang out with Dave after surrendering him to the Marching Band Gods on Friday night and nearly all day Saturday. We woke up late on Sunday, took the dogs for a walk, went grocery shopping and ran some errands, and then cooked up a fabulous dinner of scallops, polenta and dandelion greens. (LOVE those dandelion greens -- which, Dave tells me, are not quite the same ones you'd pull out of your yard. Apparently they've been bred and farmed for the human palate.)
Now, back in the city, I must admit it was sobering to come home to an empty apartment. It feels so silent and still without my cat (although, as I told a friend, getting rid of the litter box was no small joy).
Being petless is definitely going to take some getting used to. Do you realize I've NEVER lived for long without an animal? We always had dogs, and occasionally cats, growing up. When I moved to the dorms in college I still had my dogs at home, about 20 miles away, and I saw them every week or two. And then, when I moved to an apartment after my freshman year, I got my cat Angeles, who overlapped with Howard, who overlapped with Armenia.
No wonder it feels so strange! Sure, I have Dave's dogs in my life now too, but they're not here with me in Manhattan. The apartment doesn't feel empty in the wonderful, formless, Buddhist sense. It just feels cold, pristine and museum-like.
Still, it isn't time to think about another pet. Too much is in flux. I have to just see where life leads from here.
(Photo: Reflections and shadows on E. 34th Street, last week.)