Going, going, gone!

It’s like a sixth sense. I can tell when they’re leaving. I don’t like it when they leave even for a few hours. When it’s overnight, it’s like torture.

The wheeled boxes made no appearance last week when they scurried about the kitchen, organizing Her purse, collecting iPhone chargers. Just the same, I had that feeling that this was more than a trip to the grocery store (which I’m often allowed to join!)

I jumped about, dancing, wagging my tail, chasing my toys, doing my most adorable, in the hope that they would take me with them. But, no. The front door opened. The front door closed. And from my perch on my chair at the window, I watched as they drove away.

You may wonder what I do with myself when I’m alone. It’s not pretty. With the run of the house, you might think it’s party time. But there’s no party without my peeps. I miss them like crazy. Last week, I just snuggled into the bed upstairs and mooned over my loneliness.

Whether She’s leaving for an hour or leaving for a day, or even leaving for a week, she always kisses me and tells me, “Don’t worry, Scout. Mama always comes back.”

Thankfully, so far, she has.