All Come From Dust, And To Dust All Return

So this is what Day 1 was supposed to be like! The Hubs sent me pictures throughout the day of the progress. Bless his heart, he works from home and had to deal with all the noise. And the mess. Fortunately, he put in his shooting range ear protection to save his hearing. Not that he listens to me, so I’m not sure who he’s saving his hearing for.

When I got home, all the carpet was gone, and tile was removed up to the kitchen island. There was dust everywhere. I mean, everywhere. I knew this was going to be dirty. I knew it was going to be messy. I figured it was going to get worse, but holy cow, this exceeded my expectations! When I got home on Day 2, I just wanted to cry.

But I didn’t want to cry just because of the mess. I can almost handle that as it’s just a challenge to me to return my home to normal. What really broke my heart is that there was no little red-headed, bouncy bulldog to scramble down the stairs and greet me with her boisterous happiness.  All that greeted me was dust and the echoes of my footsteps downstairs. The worst part of this whole process has been how much I miss the Spoiled Dogs. Please don’t tell them, though. They might think that’s a license to get away with more than they already do!

We weren’t hanging around an empty house this night, however. I had signed us up for our Adoption Orientation class, thinking it would be a good way to get us out of the house. It was. It was a productive start to the next journey in our lives. It did, however, make for a late night.  And we still came home to an empty house that echoed with nothing more than our carefully measured steps through the mess of what once was our happy home.