When the Mantis Flew Away

Ryan rescued a green praying mantis and transported it to the kitchen floor balcony geraniums where it lived many days, but then disappeared mysteriously the morning after Ryan boarded the bus to catch his Madrid/Dallas/Sacramento flight back to California life.

Photo courtesy of Naturalist Enrique

Sombra has been out of sorts every since she noticed something was happening with Ryan's suitcase. It wasn't serving as a roof to her kennel anymore, but was down and being packed. Yes, she knows the signs for packing, doesn't like them, nor her family leaving. I agree, we are the same. We didn't like that Ryan, like the mantis, just disappeared.

So she began whining, commenced her nervous habit of finding shoes, clothes, anything really, of the family to stash away in her crate, and finally she resorted to barking at odd noises over the balconies, which she never does. We finally went out for a 3am walk that first night, which neither of us does either, I can assure you, and still her restlessness continued.
Now, a week today has gone by and she still looks up and down the stairs for a big boy, who startled her at first with his large playful gestures and exuberance, but finally won her over. From greyhound nose to tail. All the way. Of course he did.

Ryan teaches Sombra to take her first selfie.

We, too, had initial adjustments; had hard things to say and hear, but just as quickly we settled in. A comfortable routine; one day after another, full of love, great times; hugs as we passed each other, games during sobremesa*, surfing the internet side by side, cooking, shopping, and just doing what we do, but doing together, which, of course, makes all the difference in the world. What joy.

So Sombra, I'm looking for him, too. Be brave I told him when he was leaving and he didn't want to go.  Be brave, Sombra. I'm repeating that line to myself, too, like a meditative mantra, a prayer, a plea with my heart.