Our daughter’s home for fall break, her first visit since she went to college in August. the only things she missed at college were home cooking, her dog Abby and being able to spread out on her full-sized bed. She’s getting her fill of all three while she’s here.
We’ve noticed a few definite increases since her arrival: the twittiness of the dog, the number of times the phone rings, and the length of the grocery list. Not that I’m complaining. The extra activities are fun. But I’m surprised at how quickly Hiram and I adapted to her absence compared to the dog. Abby did not adapt; instead she casts smoldering glances at the two people who live with her, the ones who don’t play with her enough, don’t feed her enough and don’t let her sleep in their bed.
Anne leaves tomorrow evening. She and a new friend are driving back together. I think she’ll be ready to return, once we get all her laundry done, that is. And though Hiram and I miss her after she goes we’ll settle back into our routine, though I may turn pale when I get the next grocery receipt and the water bill.
I’m don’t think Abby will handle things quite as well. She’s grown quite attached to the old fleece blanket that lines her doggy bed, the one Anne put there for her. She’ll probably hide under it and chew a few more holes in it and cast surly glances at us when we don’t make Anne reappear. Nobody warned us that the dog would have the hardest time adjusting to the empty nest.
Doggy angst is way tougher than teen angst ever was. The dog may need therapy – or a new fleece blanket, whichever is cheaper.
