I miss the yellow kitten. I miss her little questioning face. I miss her cheerful attitude. I miss the way she used to snuggle under my chin. I miss her little soundtrack of trills and purrs and mews.
She went to her new papa on Sunday and I've been a little bit mopey ever since. I know she will have a great home--he is already crazy about her--but I'm still a little sad.
C.S. coined the "post-purr-tum" phrase for my emotional dip (clever, isn't he?). I think you could also call it an episode of sep-purr-ation anxiety. I want the yellow kitten to be happy and grow up as the queen of her own household, and I know she and her papa are a good match. But it's still hard to let go.
Meanwhile, the Princess is much happier not to have to share her guest room with a little intruder. She really, really likes being an only cat and the focus of all my attention and affection.
It's the right result in the long run.