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My journey with Tweetie ends today. Though I'll still be involved with his life, it'll be from a distance. I've been sick with some sort of stomach bug for a few days and my hormones are percolating at dangerous levels. I'm tired. A perfect day to drive a 280 mile round trip to Boston!
My brain isn't working. I hate being a woman sometimes. Get whacked out hormones, always at the worst possible time, then try to act like a "normal" person while under duress. Ugh.
At the last minute I told Sam I was in trouble and asked him what I should do. Instead of doing the trip solo, Sam offered to drive me. If the weather turned bad, which was likely, he'd have 4wd on his car and I'd not have the stress of the drive up. I didn't want to lean on him, but I had to admit it might be the best for most of us and I promised I'd buy gas and a load of Lox and Bagels at Rein's Deli on the way home. What that man won't do for fish, I swear.
The plan was to leave at 2pm to avoid the worst of Boston traffic. Before leaving, I spent some quality time playing and hanging out with Tweetie. All he wanted to do was sit on my lap, play while sitting on my lap or bite my pants. It was a true Hallmark moment.
I packed up some of Tweetie's favortie toys, a cat blanket that Food Lady brought us that smelled like Sockington, a few cans of food and Tweetie's Vet records. The last thing I packed was Tweetie's Adoption Contract.
Yes. Adoption. Contract. It seems that Food Lady has a bit of a crush on Tweetie to the point of feeling it may just be Kismet that Tweetie should come to live alongside his older twin, Sockington and his cohort in crime, Penny. I've known that this was a possibility since July 23rd. I even predicted it would happen! For some reason, I felt I needed to write down my gut feeling after I'd received a note from Jason, asking to come visit Tweetie. I sealed the prediction in an envelope and showed it to Sam to witness it. Now if I could only get my own Psychic Hotline, maybe I could afford my Vet bill!
I wasn't able to say anything about the possibility until enough time and meetings had passed so that everyone felt comfortable with the idea that maybe Tweetie was destined to be part of the family? Tweetie will be on probation once he arrives at The Socks Army HQ and it'll be up to Food Lady, Fatty, Socks & Penny whether or not Tweetie will stay on "forever."
Even if it doesn't work out, Tweetie can always come home to me and I'll find him, maybe not as an exciting home, but a home nonetheless. No pressure. No worries. There are NO villains here. First...let's get Tweetie to Boston and see what happens next.
We packed up the car and Sam put the car into "drive." Tweetie began crying hysterically. Within less than a block, I'd gotten out of the car and jumped into the back seat, where I stayed for the remainder of the trip. Tweetie was content once he had company. My hormones settled down once I started to pet him. I tried to push the thought out of my mind that this was it-this was the last few hours I was going to spend with Tweetie. I felt my gut lurch and tears well up in my eyes. Was it my tummy troubles returning or the inevitable sadness of letting go? I started this journey fully ready to be responsible for whatever the outcome: releasing Tweetie to the woods or finding him a home. It was never in the plan to keep him with my clutter, but I'd be lying if I said it wouldn't be tough to say goodbye.
Ready or not, it was time to carry on; to leave Connecticut and make our way northeast.
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