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| Tuckered out… |
Blue’s not doing good.
Vet’s are reasonably sure that the mass in her chest is complicating her pneumonia problem, and in a bit Boo and I will head off to the Vets to have a talk neither one of us thought we’d have for a bit.
Get her home from her belly operation, deal with her room clearing farts, listen to her tell us the time (“really close to feeding time people. Here – scratch my butt”) … now, not so much.
How do you share incredibly crappy news with the friends and family who’ve kept you going through so much? How do we keep going forward? (see above – friends, family, love) …
**The wind is blowing hard enough that the remaining leafs are falling in pairs and groups … falling down from on high.. Fall changes to winter, change never stops.**
{11:36a + 12Nov12 = Monday morning || Frightened Rabbit sings ‘State Hospital’}
+++ from yesterday +++
Our dog blue is sick, not getting better quickly, and thus Boo and I are quite the wreck.
We distract ourselves with work and school, eat every living carbohydrate in our house, sleep poorly or medicated, and keep finding every damn minutia crushing to our souls.
Blue is not on the other side of me when Boo reaches over to pet her in bed…
Blue isn’t guarding our front yard from squirrels, leafs, wandering dogs/walkers, the mailman, and any other sundry things she sees and protects us from.
Blue’s water dish sits waiting to be refilled when it’s emptied by her drooly toungue.
Her food dish is all clean, waiting for her to get excited about the green beans she loves sooooooo much.
see – every little fucking thing…
I’m content knowing that I have limited powers … I live a good life by being good to those near me, not as much of an asshole as I want to be to the danger-strangers who get in my way as I drive about the Triangle, I inquire to the well being of our friends because I care about how they’re doing…
but I can’t figure out how to trade places with blue. I can’t figure out how to get her home, so she can go running in her dreams, lacerating my kidneys, and occasionally ‘wooofl-wooo hooo wooo woofle woofle {littlebark}’ as she runs and runs and runs.
I’m angry at every fucking thing in this world that isn’t working to get our dog back home.
I hate – with a cold passion – the pit that’s growing in my heart and in the back of my mind – where the rage is growing, not hurrying, just waiting for the snap, the break where I. Don’t. Care. Anymore…
hell – not even afraid of that… just don’t want it at all.
Our friends – oh our friends. how they have loved and supported us. I really feel bad for them – they do not deserve to have to be on our suffrage
At least they keep us well fed and well drunk… wait. never mind…
Also, Mindfulness Based Stress Reduction is kinda failing me as I sit outside the Vets office, hoping and waiting and crying and being angry. Just so ya know…
{9:01p + 11Nov12 = Sunday eve, Veterans Day || silence, but screams make it through…}