Homecoming to a cold front

Flying into Texas yesterday, 

Luci in her carrier stuffed under the seat, calm as could be, 

I wanted to stay suspended above the thick white blanket of clouds a little longer. 

Leaving is always sad.  When Day was a two-year-old--crying when Nana and Granddaddy left, she said, "I got dirty water in my eyes." 

Day arrived on Thursday and we shared a ride to the Atlanta Airport yesterday, so it was a double whammy, tears in Lawrenceville, then again in Atlanta. 

I'm still not ready to land, but here I am, met by cold weather and a too-quiet house, feeling blue and lonesome and not entirely at home yet. 

Day drove us to Elijay on Sunday, one of our favorite mountain towns.  We had pizza in a little Italian cafe there, one we discovered on our last threesome retreat in the North Georgia mountains two years ago.

On Saturday, we visited Carlene's sister Dot in Warner Robins in her new assisted living apartment.  I'd planned to leave Luci for the day with a young woman I'd met on Rover.com....

Carlene and I drove there, planning to pick up Day and go to Starbucks, then on to see Dot.

I met the woman, walked up a flight of stairs, down another,  and took some convoluted path to her basement apartment.  I hoped Luci would be okay with the other three dogs and the stranger, but didn't feel entirely comfortable. 

By the time I'd gotten back to the car, started it, and set my GPS for home, I saw the woman in the parking lot waving her arms and calling Luci. I was horrified that she was alone in a large parking lot and already lost to the woman I'd trusted to keep her for twelve hours!

"She's in your car!" the woman shouted.

Sure enough, and unbeknownst to me until that moment, Luci has a super power: she can turn invisible.  She had somehow scooted out of the stranger's apartment, taken a different route, and jumped into the car without either of us even seeing her!

How had I not seen her fly into the car when I opened the door?   She's tiny, very fast when she wants to be, and stubbornly loyal.  Long story short, it was the four of us who visited Dot that day. 

We enjoyed seeing Dot in her new space and seeing how much she loves it there. Though she's six years younger than Carlene, she acted like the big sister, sternly cautioning Carlene to use her cane all the time.  "I see it every day," she said, "And I can't stand the thought of you falling."

Neither can I. 

Luci and I want our whole pack together, everybody safe.