When I’m working from home, I take Harvey down to my basement office (he won’t walk down the stairs himself) and set him in his bat-bed in front of the heater (at a safe distance, of course) where he usually stays, snoozing away in the warm all day until I’m done with work or Jeffrey gets home and comes downstairs to say hello and get him.

The last few days, Harvey has decided he doesn’t want to hang out downstairs with me Instead he climbs up to the first floor, and the first couple days, stands at the stop of the stairs whimpering for me to come upstairs with him. I always come up to see if he needs water or good to go outside, but he just waddled over to the couch and stares at me, waiting for me to sit down and form his bed with my lap. It breaks my heart, but I have to work, so i can only stay for a minute before heading back down to my office.

Today, he climbed the stairs again, and I waited for the usual whimper, but….nothing, I had to take a call, so I couldn’t go up to check on him right away. After the call, I headed upstairs to what I assumed would be a devastated, lonely, suffering puppy, watching the doorway for my arrival, waiting to give me the ol’ stink eye.

Instead, I found him on the lounge, sound asleep:

Apparently, my little boy is all growed up and can be upstairs all by himself now.

I don’t know if I’m happy and relieved about his newfound independence, or sad about the loss of his need to be with me constantly.

Sigh…