A Can of Tuna Fish
Today, I opened a can of tuna fish and caught myself trying to be super quiet about the whole thing. A moment later, I had the sudden realization that I would no longer hear the padding of curious footsteps, a sound I have tied to the opening of… well, any kind of can.
Two weeks ago, I would see a blur of black out of the corner of my eye. I’d imagine hearing Harmony’s footsteps, going room to room. I’d turn my head, expecting to see her darting just out of sight, around the corner.
And then I’d remember she wasn’t here anymore.
Those phantom visions and sounds have lessened over the days, but today… on a Monday afternoon, while standing in the kitchen opening a can of tuna fish… I found myself waiting, straining to hear the sound of my cat walking down the hallway.