Today was my last day.
Everything I did today, I did it thinking The Last.
This is The Last Time I will drive down this road to work.
This is The Last Time I will sit outside for 20 minutes before anyone gets there to let me in.
This is The Last Time I will clock in here.
I went back and looked over my puppies. The Poochon who has been there seemingly forever and is still cheerful and bouncy and happy. She reminds me of a giggly elementary school girl with perfect titian curls. The Puggle who has been there for a month having a small patch of ringworm on his left hind hock treated. Calling him "Ringworm" evolved into calling him Ringo, and he would howl and bay and get my attention and then act like a fool trying to bite his own tail while watching me from the corner of his eye. He is always watching me. Sometimes I would turn around to catch him watching me with his head cocked to the side and his ears up as if seriously trying to figure out what I was up to, and why I did what I do. Despite my dislike for the designer dog craze, I have nothing against the dogs themselves, and I have to admit, Puggles are cute, and full of personality. Ringo was the last one who got to me. I found myself, while watching his antics, wondering how he'd get along with Kitsune and reminding myself repeatedly that my SO can barely handle the yodels and howls of Kitsune, let alone adding to that another yodeling, howling, braying vocal hound.
I didn't want to stay in the kennel today. I found myself wandering out all the time, to talk to co-workers that I know I will miss sorely.
I packed up the stuff I was taking with me: A coffee cup I kept forgetting to take home. My CD book. My Plumb's Veterinary Drug Handbook. I left my giant radio/CD player because when it was at my house I never used it anyway, and the kennel can sometimes be hard to take without music. The puppies like music. I also left my Merck's Veterinary Manual for SaintTawny and the couple of other people who would actually want to use it. But mostly for SaintTawny.
I was hugged, and told that nobody would ever be able to do my job as well as I did it.
I was given a new journal (I have a teensy bit of an obsession with blank books) and told that my leaving was creating a void that no one else could ever fully fill. (Tears!)
I was kissed, and told that I have made someone proud.
The boss man, who rarely can say something serious, lifted me off my feet in a huge bear hug and said, "I'll miss you, kid."
I didn't cry, but I came close.
My Facebook status is currently:
K9Trainer is officially no longer a pet store employee. Thank you, pet store, for all the opportunities, the friendship, and the memories. Past and present employees, if you can read this, its because I <3 you guys like family.