We may not understand words the way humans do, but we understand change.
We notice when dis house sounds different.
When footsteps don’t arrive where they used to.
When a favorite spot stays empty a little longer than expected.
We notice when meowmie pauses in rooms she once moved through without thinking.
When routines soften.
When the air feels heavier, even though everything looks the same.
Sometimes we wait.
By doors that no longer open.
In places where someone once curled up beside us.
Not because we expect them to return—
but because remembering feels important.
Grief doesn’t always look like sadness.
Sometimes it looks like listening more closely.
Sleeping differently.
Staying nearer than usual.
We feel it too.
And while we don’t rush our feelings, we don’t walk through them alone.
We lean into warmth.
We follow familiar rhythms.
We accept comfort when it’s offered—sunlight on the floor, a gentle hand, a quiet moment shared.
If you’re noticing changes in us after losing a companion, please know dis:
Nothing is wrong.
We’re adjusting, just like you.
Meowmie says that love doesn’t disappear when someone leaves—it changes shape.
We think that’s true.
We’ll carry on together.
One soft moment at a time.
With love,
Pecan Pie & Blueberry Biscuit
