Meet Eclipse and Nova.

I rescued them once, and they rescue me daily. I know I will be back. But they don’t know that. For the two weeks I’m gone, they’ll stand by the door every night around 1 a.m. waiting for it to open. It won’t open then. And when it does open hours later, it’ll be Karen the sitter and not me. London calls, and I must heed this rare chance to stretch spirit, sinew, and synapse. I’ll be back. And I will gush, and they will be tentative. They ARE cats after all. I will have conquered greater London in the name of Thor (Our Thor, not the Norse god). I know there will be great people and experiences to come. And maybe I’ll even go back. But right now, as I try to type without disturbing the kids — I mean cats — at my side, I’m a little worried.