This morning, my daughter was following me through the house as I stumbled around in a half-asleep stupor.
“I’m having peanut butter for lunch!” Brush teeth. “Uh huh.”
“Today I think I want to wear my pink shoes.” Wash face. “Uh huh.”
“I had a dream about Spongebob last night.” Pull on socks. “Uh huh.”
“I haven’t seen Callie for a long time.” Brush hair. “Uh huh.” Then a screeching put on the brakes noise in my head.
I sat down on the side of the tub next to my daughter, and simply told her the truth. “I haven’t seen her either. I think she ran away.”
“You mean down the street?”
“Maybe. I don’t know where she is, though. I look for her every day. I’m hoping she found a family to live with.”
“Do you think she went into the forest?” (that is what she calls the little park at the bottom of our hill).
“Maybe. Maybe she went off to be Queen of All the Wild Things in the forest.”
“So now we have one dog, and one cat.”
“If Apollo dies, then we’ll have no cats.”
“That’s right. He’s be up with Emmett and Mulan, keeping them company.”
My daughter furrowed her brow. “He wouldn’t be with them. He would be in CAT heaven.”
“What’s cat heaven like, do you think?”
“Well, there’s lots of cats, and lots of windows, and lots of cat toys.” She nodded confidently. “And no dogs.”
She’s fine. A perceptive and resilient little kid. Must get that from her dad. :/