We
just got back from putting the dog away in a big hole that he dug. She is gone.
Coelho says about death – it is God’s way of teaching us about life. I thought
I would go be with her while the vet put her down, I changed my mind. When she
came back covered in a blue sheet, I could not look at her. I helped carrying
her out of the car into the hole under her favorite tree on the farm. We laid
her mattress in the hole and buried her with her favorite toy. We cried and
prayed. We drove back the same way we went, two She’s’ and I in the back of the
truck. I cleaned the house; we ate turkey and watched golf as we talked about
her. She will be missed. I broke down after we put her in and walked away to
sit by the truck. Away from her grave I talked with the dog. I said sorry to
her. Sorry that I could not do a thing for her pain save give her meds. Sorry
that I did not pet her because she was such a drool-er and I hated to get the
drool on me. Sorry that we had to put her to sleep without asking her opinion.
The one thing I learn as I grow older is that I do not want anyone to see me
cry. There is something about crying that is intimate, it’s almost as if I am
speaking with myself and me is answering in tears. Whenever I have cried and
someone came to me, the crying ceased. I and I stop sharing the moment. Today I
know to cry away from any intrusions. Sorry this is about the dog. So she’s
gone. I am washing all her sheets. I wonder what’ll happen to her stuff.
So
my roommate broke up with her boyfriend a few minutes ago. She came down stairs
sniffing. I stopped giving she-who must be obeyed a pedicure and comforted
roomie; which involved calling the now ex- a hole and joining everyone in
judging him on his dodgy excuse for ending the relationship. I see his point of
view and yet I also do not see it. But what does it matter they have broken up
and nothing I say or analyze here will make a difference. Someone said, ‘what a
day it has been. Too many deaths.’ I think it’s just life happening for us to
move on to the next stage. Now it’s clear this is not where she needs to spend
much time anymore. She has always wanted to go to Toronto. She will go and I
will head down south to North Carolina. Maybe even New York when a job comes
through. It’s almost midnight and am hungry again. I must be ovulating; I want
a friend who can go down with me to the kitchen and eat all the food there is
to quench this hormonal craving. She came with me. I just had turkey and a diet
7up. I miss my parents. Sometimes I honestly believe that they are the only
consistent love affair in my life. So my face is evidence of my encounter with
chocolate this past week. I hate the pimples but love the chocolate. It does
things to me nothing else does. Ida recommended the movie ‘nine and half weeks’.
It frightened me at the same time made me smile. It’s a sick movie. A horrific-
romance tale of two people with insatiable desires, and I daresay pretty
dim-witted. Now that I think of it, am sure most people are insatiable, culture
does the taming. I told her I had two dates this past week; she refuses to
accept and says, a group date is no date. I enjoy being with him in other
peoples company.
It’s
raining. I love rain. There were so many Wild Deer walking around the farm
today. I wrote two emails, happy ones. I only do happy these days. We were
reading Coelho’s quotes as we drove down yesterday and one of them said, ‘there
is no sin in being happy.’ I used to think it was cool and romantic to be
melancholic. Sounds like the sick part of the romantic horror of a movie I just
saw.
