Bang the drum slowly Traditional
Click images for desktop size: "Fragile" by UnknownEarlier this week a friend of my puppy's passed away.
She was 12 years old.
Like most of my puppy's best friends she was a patient in hospital. She had lympho ballistic leukemia, which is the same strain that I have.
It sickens me and puts pressure on me that I'm still shuffling around while a bright, personable child succumbs.
One thing I have always known and been quite comfortable in the knowledge of, is that any kid has the potential to do things greater and bigger and more wonderful than any of us can ever believe possible.
I see the empirical proof of it everyday and everywhere I look.
I think a lot of people "of a certain age" disregard this. Maybe they think that's it is merely potential. Without potential what are any of us? Without the dreams to exercise that potential what are we?
I love kids. Lucky for me.
Her mother sent me an email telling me of her passing. It was unbearingly sad.
I've lost a child. The sadness is near unendurable. I can only imagine the horror of watching this disease age and cruelly modifying your child..
The little girl wrote to my puppy almost every day. Her mother says that on days where the lethargy was so intense the whole family felt like giving up the little girl would demand on going to her computer (a Windows PC she claimed was much much better than my puppy's iMac) so she could go to my puppy's web site to see if my puppy was having anymore great adventures.
I understand the lethargy and fatigue. It makes me feel smaller than a little girl that I have to struggle so hard against it.
She was a brave and bright little girl.
It is too painful a thing to remember the dreams and plans she had, just the ones she shared with my puppy were all luminance and astonishment.
There is no doubt that the world is a darker less welcoming place with her gone.
It hurts that she's gone but its no exaggeration that the hurt is far far less than the joy, happiness and laughs she bought into my life.
I am slowly feeling better.
I know I am by using the disgustingly dirty house barometer test.
I notice the filth so I must be feeling better to notice it.
Conversely I wonder how sick I was to let things get this terrible!
My puppy and I are still happy. The foster dog is starting to become a real dog and not just a frightened animal.
The little puppy we acquired and took to the shelter had people come look at her this weekend. She's such a wonderful little thing I'm hoping she gets a happy a home as she deserves.