This post is very sad.
Brownie has been with Sebby from the beginning, the very beginning. He has been lost and found so many times I can't even keep track. He has been everywhere with us. He is the best monkey.
Seb drew this right before we left on our trip
In San Francisco, we left him at a playground. (The one in the picture above---perhaps in that very tunnel. I can't look at this picture without getting teary.) We were two hours south before we realized it. We weren't planning to even go back through the city on our way home, but I kept imagining Brownie lying there, waiting for Seb. I couldn't handle it. The next morning, I asked Sam to take us back, and he (good patient man that he is) agreed, though with little hope. Seb didn't seem that worried, even though we told him Brownie was probably gone. I felt in my heart we'd find him too. But we ran back into the fenced playground; rustled through every bush, rummaged through every garbage can, prayed. Brownie wasn't anywhere. Finally I couldn't justify looking any longer.
That night, driving into the dark towards home, crossing the Bay Bridge, it hit Sebby for real. "Brownie! Can we go back?" he sobbed. I thought his heart was breaking. He crawled up to my seat and I sobbed with him; his face in my shoulder, my tears in his hair.
I know. It's silly. Of course we'll get over it. We do have Brownie Two (as Sam keeps telling me, when the starter goes down, it just means someone else gets more playing time). Seb's fine. I'm not quite fine, yet, though. I miss that little Brownie, and who he was to my Sebby boy. I don't like thinking of him all alone in San Francisco somewhere. I don't like sad endings.