Bad news in this update, two-fold bad. First, I didn’t write a word on Monday, Tuesday or Wednesday. Today I will, but the value of those words may be questionable, in the end. Maybe not, who knows. I think my brain needs this now, this escape into the world of my writing, into imagination. Because the results from Monday’s tests came back: my beloved dog has stomach cancer, and maybe a month or so to live.
My tears are cried out, for now. The dog, Luna, is in no pain. In the two weeks since initial symptoms began, she’s gone from “mature” to “very old;” she sleeps a lot, plays little, but she loves sitting out in the grass marina-side (by our apartment), watching boats, ducks and people go by. Not such a bad way to be, and I’m content to sit beside her, watching her be content, to be happy in her understated, fully-present way.
So I hope you’ll understand if I’m slow with the posts, and the replies to your comments. Her graceful exit from life is my prime concern right now.