It didn’t work! Dad is still nowhere to be seen even after all my efforts yesterday, thinking and what not, just to try rescuing him from the Little Black Box. And Mummy is being a bit cold about it all. I thought she loved Dad and me but guess I was wrong. She seems more concerned with getting that blasted box put back together after The Incident, presumably so she can keep Dad in there forever. It must be working, too, ‘cause I would swear I heard his voice coming from it again this morning, though it may have been wishful thinking. I can hardly remember him anymore ~sigh~. So I have spent the morning on the stairs with my head hanging over, wishing Dad had shown up. I don’t even feel like eating [much] – I only ate a bit of tuna, some crunchies and one treat, plus a cookie. It is obvious food has no meaning for me under the circumstance.
Life is such a muddle.
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