My dog died yesterday. Today is my birthday. I'd like to pretend neither of things happened, but they did. Life ends, and life goes on.
I'm better today than I was yesterday, and tomorrow I'll be better than today. I gotta hand it to Facebook, though. Who wouldn't be cheered by all those wonderful birthday wishes? I've never felt so connected to people I care about. It almost makes me wish every day was my birthday.
But, yeah. My dog. Maya. She was hit on the road. My fault. I couldn't keep her in the yard. Not even the wireless fence was effective. The prongs on the collar have to make contact with skin to work, but her winter coat is so thick the collar was useless. She liked to sleep outside because she was part wolf, and preferred the cold to the house. She liked to run in the woods. When she didn't come to the door yesterday morning for food, I had a bad feeling. I didn't think she wandered as far as the road, but...Still, I shoulda coulda woulda.
My wonderful neighbor buried her for me. Thank you, wonderful neighbor. Thank you, wonderful Facebook friends.
I'm going to spend the night with friends in Montpelier tonight. With Graham away until late December, I thought it might feel better to step away for a bit. Maybe have a glass of wine. Or a piece of cake. It's my birthday.
Tomorrow will be better.