Seems like I ought to be...and in some ways, just numbed to the pain...but...no, not really, I'm not.
It hasn't been the best week ever. In fact, it's been a hard, unpleasant one. Sick with a horrible sinus infection all weekend, so I sort of stumbled through a bare minimum of homework. Had a psych quiz Monday, that went okay. Then a psych test Wednesday, nutrition quiz in the afternoon, still wasn't feeling completely well, had to write an essay - one of those self-reflection type essays - by Thursday morning, it was finished on Wednesday night, and I didn't really like it at all. Course, I don't like those where you have to talk about yourself. But it was better to have something to turn in on time than nothing, right?
Playing catch-up all week to get the stuff I should have done earlier while I was sick...it's tiring. And not much fun. And a little overwhelming. Tuesday was a bad night. Overslept Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday and Friday mornings, which is a very bad way to start the day. It was pouring rain all Wednesday morning into the afternoon, which is right where I'm in the middle of it. Killed several wasps this week.
I think I've been to church about three times in the last two months. I don't like that. But I've either been sick, or had a ton of immediate homework, or something else, and well, there you are. Don't like Halloween much, though I did actually dress up for about an hour. (MacGyver.)
Friday was a beautiful Oklahoma fall day, one of the rare times you can slip out of "distressed college student" mode and just be able to marvel and appreciate the trees and colors and sunshine. Nobody showed up for an extra-credit nutrition assignment of walking two miles, so I went down to Morgan's and got some snacks, a mile-and-a-half trip. Came back home yesterday afternoon, found a new Lucy Maud Montgomery book to read, played music with Courtney, heard about her trip, petted the goats, etc. Did laundry today(Saturday), watched Amy, got a little bit of homework done. And said goodbye to Copper.
I was reading a book in the living room, possibly a Thoene book or Mitford, on the night of Sept 13, 2010, sprawled out sideways on the blue chair. (I know the date because I mentioned this in my journal that I kept then.) I hear this bark. And it doesn't stop. So eventually I tune into it, don't recognize the tone. It isn't Sunny, and not Sport. Not Skeet, either, or any of the neighborhood dogs. Dad looks out the window. "It's a dog." Someone sets some food and water out on the porch. "Come here, dog! We've got some food for you!" The dog retreats farther down the sidewalk.
"You try it, Wes." I crouch down, set the bowls on the weathered boards. "It's all right, it's okay. We've got some food here, you came to a good place. You knew that, didn't you?" The dog scurries into the far corner from the door, but still, that's on the porch. She wags her tail slightly, thwapping it on the wall. (During the Depression, hobos had this special sign that they made on houses designating the good places, I think animals have a similar system, and ours is marked as such.)
The red heeler's hurt leg eventually heals, she sticks around and becomes Copper, sort of fills the void left by Eclipse and all the cats. She was a little of everything - watchdog toward the UPS man, barking menacingly and scaring him to death; friendly to Mrs. Perry or whoever else might be visiting. Once in a while she'd kill a chicken, but it was usually one of the neighbors'. She would placidly endure Amy tugging on her ears and tail, or getting right up in her face while trying to eat. She was always hanging around somewhere near the porch to bark the Welcoming Committee Song and wag her entire body happily. She'd sometimes eat up the leftover scraps from dinner, but she was a picky eater. Didn't like dog food much at all.
Always there to cheer you up when you looked like you needed it. If you were worried with school or whatever, a happy thumping tail could be heard as she made her way over to wherever you were, slipping her nose under your hand and gently smiling. She really didn't like me going off to college. Always would leap up excitedly and give me a bear(dog?) hug and lick me all over with kisses whenever I came back to visit.
She got hit by something on Hwy. 16 either late Friday night or early Saturday morning, we wondered where she was. Finally searching in the evening, we found her, with a broken leg, head slightly burned...I was watching Amy, keeping her distracted. There wasn't anything possible to do, though...other than try to say goodbye, and "thank you", and weep bitterly.
I know, life isn't fair. And I know she was only a dog. But dogs are family. Most pet-animals are. But now, to be dogless in the space of four months... Completely dogless, surrounded by people and ice-cold concrete and thinking way too much. And when I'm still trying to deal with Sunny being gone...I just...I don't know what to do. How do you cope?
"You try it, Wes." I crouch down, set the bowls on the weathered boards. "It's all right, it's okay. We've got some food here, you came to a good place. You knew that, didn't you?" The dog scurries into the far corner from the door, but still, that's on the porch. She wags her tail slightly, thwapping it on the wall. (During the Depression, hobos had this special sign that they made on houses designating the good places, I think animals have a similar system, and ours is marked as such.)
The red heeler's hurt leg eventually heals, she sticks around and becomes Copper, sort of fills the void left by Eclipse and all the cats. She was a little of everything - watchdog toward the UPS man, barking menacingly and scaring him to death; friendly to Mrs. Perry or whoever else might be visiting. Once in a while she'd kill a chicken, but it was usually one of the neighbors'. She would placidly endure Amy tugging on her ears and tail, or getting right up in her face while trying to eat. She was always hanging around somewhere near the porch to bark the Welcoming Committee Song and wag her entire body happily. She'd sometimes eat up the leftover scraps from dinner, but she was a picky eater. Didn't like dog food much at all.
Always there to cheer you up when you looked like you needed it. If you were worried with school or whatever, a happy thumping tail could be heard as she made her way over to wherever you were, slipping her nose under your hand and gently smiling. She really didn't like me going off to college. Always would leap up excitedly and give me a bear(dog?) hug and lick me all over with kisses whenever I came back to visit.
She got hit by something on Hwy. 16 either late Friday night or early Saturday morning, we wondered where she was. Finally searching in the evening, we found her, with a broken leg, head slightly burned...I was watching Amy, keeping her distracted. There wasn't anything possible to do, though...other than try to say goodbye, and "thank you", and weep bitterly.
I know, life isn't fair. And I know she was only a dog. But dogs are family. Most pet-animals are. But now, to be dogless in the space of four months... Completely dogless, surrounded by people and ice-cold concrete and thinking way too much. And when I'm still trying to deal with Sunny being gone...I just...I don't know what to do. How do you cope?
Beautiful writing on a heart-wrenching experience. I always cling to Proverbs 12:10~~~ and the fact that God created our pets, they did not sin but suffer the worlds consequences of man's sin...trusting God's promises that all the beasts will praise His name. That is how I cope. There are still always tears....but we cling to the promises of Almighty Creator God who delights in all His creation. Sadly, we also lost a family pet this week also apparently hit by a car on our road....which truly surprises me as it is gravel. Sigh. Praying for your heart and all of your family. Loss is hard.
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