This reminded me of a story my mom told me. When I was probably three or four, I talked back to my mom and had to sit in the corner (the 1960’s version of a time out). I sat there quietly, and my mom was so glad I was contemplating what I did and learning a lesson. When she told me I could get up, she found that I’d been quiet because I was occupying myself by chipping the paint off the wall with my fingernail. Lucky for me, she was more amused than angry.
When my dad had been retired for a couple of months, he had to go into his old office to consult on some project. My mom told me that as my dad was putting on his suit and tie he commented, “I can’t believe I did this every day for 35 years.”
I’m so sorry for your loss. I waited over two years after my previous cat passed before adopting a new one. I’ve had my new cat for almost a year now. He’s a 12-year-old cat whose 95-year-old owner had passed away (I found him on Nextdoor when the old man’s caretaker posted looking for a home for the cat). He’s such a sweetheart, and I’m so grateful that he came into my life.
I like the last panel with Woodstock calmly standing there regarding his crashed helicopter.