The Remains of the Day

Hathaway has separation anxiety. That's one of the reasons we fostered him for a few weeks before adopting him outright. I'm home a lot -- or I was at the time -- but I had to be able to leave when I wanted without worrying that the house would be destroyed when I got back.

Or as Kim at the shelter put it, "That he's not going to jump out a window trying to find you." Um, yeah, that too.

The good news is that Hathaway is working his way through it. The neighbors say he no longer barks the entire time I'm gone. I can tell he still goes room to room looking for me. I can also tell he sometimes settles in and curls up in a warm spot to wait.

Often, though, he chews something. From the counter or my nightstand. He prefers things that will nourish him, which I must say, is effective multitasking that I can appreciate. If he can't find anything to eat or chew, he will pull papers or oven mitts off the counter.

In a way, it's a battle of wits. Can I put away everything that he will potentially chew/eat while I am gone?

He is winning. The Remains of the Day is the photographic evidence of that.

It's the first thing I look for when I come in the door -- The Remains of the Day -- and I anticipate it will be a regular feature.