'So you're just going to leave, is that it?'
This is only magnified by 'the eyes'. That look when you try to leave the house. The 'oh...so we're not going to hang out together today?' look. The 'how could you do this to me?' look. I lose great chunks of time when I'm at home just sitting and cuddling Caesar. He's always warm and snuggly and he can cheer me up even when it's raining outside. So it's really hard on that first Monday morning, at 7:15 to shut that door and walk away.
Of course, I like to think we've been through the worst with Caesar. And we did have it pretty bad too! We've coped with the breaking into the kitchen and eating his bodyweight in chocolate and boxes, we've had the emergency vet visit after he ate over 1kg of dog food after breaking the kitchen door, I've come home to find rooms in a state of disrepair, furniture permanently damaged, clothing ripped (my new coat did look better when it had pockets. But, for the most part, we come home now to find the house relatively unharmed. At worst, Caesar will pull a coat off the hook, nosey through a handbag or make a pile of my shoes on the bed but these things I can handle because I just need to think back to this...
...and I remember how lucky I am that this is over.
So when I stepped through the door on Tuesday and found the hall more or less how I'd left it, I wasn't surprised. We don't need to worry now. Caesar was there, as always, wagging and howling and bustling around clumsily; his way of saying 'how was your day?'
I patted him and then went into the lounge and flung myself on the sofa. "I'm shattered!" I announced before smelling Caesar's face. He smelt surprisingly good...as though he was wearing perfume. "Has he had a bath?" Damien shook his head and then bustled off to make a cup of tea. I shrugged my shoulders and sat Caesar on my knee for a cuddle, he settled down immediately.
If I hadn't been exhausted on Tuesday night, I might have been astute enough to notice that our bedroom also smelt rather fragrant that night. But I was too exhausted to think much and the unusual smell barely crossed my mind. If I had been wide awake when I stumbled up to bed that night, I might also have noticed the traveling bag that was lying upturned on the floor of the bedroom but I wasn't. I popped my audio book on, gathered the duvet around me and snuggled down with Caesar for a nice sleep. I can't remember my head hitting the pillow.
The rest of the week went in much the same way. Teaching is tiring at the best of times but after a break, it can really take it's toll! My head was sore and my throat ached most nights and I lost several hours sitting and thinking in the lounge with Caesar cuddled up on my knees.
I became human again on Saturday morning after a migraine induced early night on Friday. Caesar, of course, turned in when I did and by 7 o'clock the next morning, we were both wide awake. Fumbling about in the half-light I looked for something to wear and then some make up. "Ah! My travel bag - perhaps there's make up left in there from my visit to Sheffield," I thought and picked the bag up from the floor and looked inside. There was only one thing in the bag....
No wonder his face smelt so good!
I'm just pleased he wasn't very very sick....