I’m already missing them, and they haven’t even left yet.

This morning, BamBam is curled in my lap, Pebbles is nestled beside me, and I’m lying here with my computer, letting the usual routine wait. I want a little longer with them. A few more cuddles before it’s time to go.

Today, I’m taking them home to Victorville. Their dad came home from post-surgery rehab on Monday, and now he gets his babies back.

I’m thinking about all the little things I’ll miss. BamBam being a lovable little bully, nudging everyone out of the way so he can sidle up to me or settle into my lap. The parade of toys he pulls from the basket, trying to decide which one he wants me to throw.

And Pebbles, my rogue agent, wandering away from the others outside, following her own plans. Everyone else can be ready to come in, but Pebbles would like a little more time, please.

This morning, I understand that feeling.

Last Sunday, Wheezie and Toby’s mom came for them. She had missed them so much and was able to resume their care. And although they’re home now, their little place in my life is still here. I still hum Toby’s “Tobi-Wan Kenobi” song to him, even though he isn’t here to hear it. I miss squealing, “Hey, Wheezie Japaneesie!”.

I also always thought is was so funny that they could only tolerate eachother enough to stay on complete opposite sides of the same sofa (See pic).

You don’t realize how many small ways you’ve found to love them until those moments come around and they aren’t there.

I may never see Pebbles and BamBam again after today. That thought makes me hold this morning a little closer. But what a wonderful reason to say goodbye: their dad is home, and they can be together again.

At Bella Bear’s, some pets become family for the rest of their lives. Others become family for a little while, until their people can care for them again. As a fellow veteran, being able to give veterans that peace of mind while they receive care means so much to me.

These homecomings are part of why I do this. I want their people to have the comfort I’ve had with them beside me—to reach down and find that familiar little face, to settle in together, to feel their family is home again.

Thank you to everyone who helps Bella Bear’s make that possible.

I’ll miss them. Of course I will. But now their people don’t have to.

That’s the good kind of letting go. The good kind of goodbye.