Today, Mark was nostalgic today as we zoomed through the countryside he knows from childhood. West Virginia is where he grew up, and though we didn't see the town he grew up in for nine years we did see Wheeling, the town in which he was born. Ann, his mother, adopted him from a chidren's home in Wheeling and the memory was bittersweet. It is the sort of memory of which I can say little and only squeeze his hand for comfort. Too swiftly the Bimmer swept us over the river and up the hillsides, flush with autumn color and away towards New York.
Miss Mint, however, was terribly pleased to arrive at our hotel a few hours later. She ventured forth from her carrier and stood at the open car window, sniffing and viewing every which way into the black night, excited at the prospect of her freedom for the evening. A room to roam through, dinner from her own dish and, yes, the marvelous relief of her own litter. Mark sweetly bought her some catnip and toys and she's settled happily into playing and grooming.Tomorrow we reach new York! The exciting promise of a new life before us and the fearful loss of a way of life in California behind. Bon chance, mes amies!
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