I'm going hide this post a little bit, I think, because I realize that I've been on quite a downer lately, and I know you guys don't want to read depressing shit day after day after day. But it's been on my mind, so here goes.
After The Runt died on April 21, it seemed there was a rash of pet deaths in the Blogiverse. Blogger after blogger, it seemed, was writing about the death of beloved Frisky or Moo-Moo or Whiskers.
Coincidence. Like when you've got a cold, and all of a sudden every blogger has a cold.
And then death started creeping closer.
A walk in the woods revealed the skeleton of a fawn.
A woman up the street passed away.
I watched, horrified, as a guy in a car purposely ran over a pigeon who was hanging out in the road. He could have swerved, but he didn't.
Yesterday I was walking by the creek and came across a couple burying the corpse of their child's beloved guinea pig.
And this morning, in my inbox? An email from a relative. An in-law is very sick and in the hospital. Could be lymphoma, could be lung cancer - they don't know yet.
I feel like I'm underwater, and kicking as hard as I can to get to the surface. I'm pretty sure I can make it. But I'm scared.