I wasn’t ready. But it wasn’t completely my fault.
Due to a slight mechanical malfunction (okay, not that slight — my car was not road-safe and it took two weeks to fix), I came home from the 82nd Annual Gathering of the Thoreau Society about a week later than I’d expected, and that ate up my precious preparation time. So July 26 rolled around faster than I was ready, and so she came home to an unprepared house (and a less-prepared-than-I-liked me).
Today is the seventh day of Life with Louisa May Alcatt, and I truly adore her. I think the feeling is mutual, because if I leave her sight, this adorable ball of fur turns into a rhythmically-screaming banshee.
But it’s funny how quickly I’d forgotten what life was like two years ago, when I brought home her big brother, A. Bronson Alcatt. The climbing on my shoulders, the pouncing on the laptop keyboard, the wrapping around my ankles as I’m trying to keep a straight face on Zoom.
How did I forget all this?
I forgot because it’s worth every second.
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