32 Starfish

Ever since dear old Marley left our cabin to return to his pets, my long afternoons waiting for my husband to come home have been much more quiet. He was such company! Chasing baby turkeys, watching seals, trips to the library, and very obedient runs out in the forest; in everything he was a delight and a snuggler, and I really missed him when he returned home. This last week has been spent sighing over imaginary cats and the muffled nudges of horses, and much reminiscing my own Lupey, the purest and best of creatures. But, as I said before, I am married to the best husband in the world. While on our most recent shopping excursion, we passed eighteen tanks of little fish for sale...a water-dwelling life had never occurred to me as company, but the moment I saw the joy in the face of a woman who was holding her new little friend in a bag full of water, I melted. And he said yes! I practically soared while paper towels and dish soap dropped into our basket: we were getting fish! Happiness!

While I write at the table, sweet Kestrel Cake and Zaphod swim nervously around in their pitcher. I thought they were going to die on the long way home, and the next day Kestrel had very low spirits. But they are chipper now, and when they are not blowing bubbles at the surface, they are zooming around in circles. The closer we get, the warier they become, but I love them and am so thankful for their scaly presence. Hurray! Thank you, Lord.