Sayuri

Sayuri has been staying with us almost a month. She’s very happy and enthusiastic. She takes pictures of every meal and almost every new person, especially kids. She laughs at almost everything. She’s beautiful. Or maybe I mean cute. She’s adorable. She looks suspiciously like everyone’s fantasy of a Japanese schoolgirl. When I saw her get out of the shuttle at our house in her babydoll dress and her high heeled shoes, I thought, “Shit. She’s way to cute to have in a house full of males.”

She learns new things every day. You can tell when she gets something new because she makes a noise. It’s like an excited grunt. It’s funny coming from her pretty self. She also flaps her hands. We’ve grown fond of it and fond of her.

Today she was sniffling, which she does a lot because she’s allergic to cats, but she can’t resist them. I handed her the kleenex box and went off to put laundry away. When I came back, she was still sniffling, only it sounded like sad sniffles. I looked into the living room, “Sayuri?” Tilman was leaning towards her in a sympathetic way. He looked up and said, “She’s really sad.”

I came over and sat down next to her and hugged her. She cried louder. I called her honey and tried to comfort her. She leaned on my shoulder and said through tears, “I… Miss… Us.”

I’ll miss us, too.

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