The flat feels empty. I've hoovered, and though I don't really feel guilty because the house is actually empty, I still got the pangs of despair knowing how my little lordship hates the hoover.
But he is not here.
He's hiding out somewhere at Aunty Deb's place.
He was dropped off a couple of hours ago with his tucker, his sleeping bits and pieces, his stick and ribbons, some treats, a new scratching post to save Aunty Deb's furniture. There's also a Feliway diffuser, which is there to help him calm down.
It's worse than dropping off a child.
After being let out of his travel cage, he had a look around and then found somewhere to hide.
He'll come out when he's ready.
And I'm back in my empty flat about to go on a full flight back to Darwin for a few more days.
The flat feels empty. For a six kilogram lump of fluff he really does make his mark.
He will be fine. Aunty Deb will love him. He has big picture windows to look out of.
I just have the most dreadful mummy guilt.
I'm glad I never had children. I'd be a wreck leaving them.
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