We dropped the boys off at the “spa” today.  It seemed a better option than keeping them here to be traumatized by the loud, scary men who will soon swarm the house.  The spa trip was a special surprise (for them), and these boys do not like surprises.  I felt terrible taking them out of the only house they’ve ever known, aware that they’ll probably never see it again.

Timmy cried.
Maggie wailed.
If I could change one thing about this move, I’d schedule it for Tuesday, rather than Monday.  Eastern Animal Hospital does not accept new business on Sundays, so we had to take them in today — which means an extra day of boarding.  An extra day of Timmy and Maggie confined to their Kitty Kondos, and an extra day of us worrying about them and missing them.  It’s lonely here without them.  It feels unnatural to close the bedroom door and not leave it open a few inches for small fellows to pad in and out.

It turns out that moving on Tuesday rather than Monday would also have scored us an extra day for the new finish on our floors to cure before we start unloading our many (many!) boxes onto them.  This past week we’ve witnessed a crazy, record-breaking week of rain, which seems to have slowed down the floor refinishing process.  Of course, it’s possible they just dawdled on the job when they should had started sooner.  But I’m trying not to think of that.

But Monday it is.  The movers are scheduled.  The No Parking signs are up in both cities.  Our Washington Post subscription has been canceled.  The pots and pans are packed.  As are the food processor, the cast iron skillet, and the wooden spoons.  Tomorrow the television comes off the wall, and the curtains, quite literally, come down.

But tonight we sit alone in a lonely house, surrounded by boxes and clutter and the random detritus of life.