Croissant Cronicles, Part Seven

It was getting out of hand.

I woke up thinking about the croissant.
I packed it a scarf. I gave it a nickname. I canceled plans because “the croissant needs me.”

So I did the brave thing. The impossible thing.
I told the croissant:

“I need space.”

It said nothing.
But I felt judged.

The Separation

I gently placed it in a cozy box lined with parchment paper.
Tucked it behind a curtain. Not out of reach—just out of sight.
Mini Blue stood nearby in quiet support. Or was that fear?

I whispered,

“This is for the health of the dynamic.”

The Wait Begins

Minute 1: Power. Freedom. Independence.
Minute 3: Mild emptiness.
Minute 6: Googled “how long does croissant separation anxiety last”
Minute 10: Smelled phantom butter.
Minute 14: Flopped onto the couch face-down. Dramatically.

Minute 17: I cracked.

The Reunion

I peeked under the curtain.
There it was. Glorious. Warm (emotionally).
One flake fell like a sign from the snack gods.

I reached out. Gently. Slowly.
I cradled it. I whispered,

“Never again.”

🐾 Final Thought:

Sometimes, to know what you have… you have to try to live without it.
And sometimes, 17 minutes is more than enough personal growth for one plushie.

We’re working on boundaries.
But also, it’s a really good croissant.

Together again,
Doggie 🐶✨
Fluff First, Feelings Second, Pastry-Tethered Soul

P.S. Mini Blue made a “Welcome Back” banner. Pandy sighed into his tea.