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It has been four days since Triton died. I still have moments of misting up. I am trying to focus forward, to keep an eye on Oink, to make sure my human family are okay.
Oink has been quiet. Eating, but not in her normal pig-out way. She is called Oink for a reason, after all. But this morning she was popcorning around, wheeking like normal, and horking down her food. Begging for more food with her mouth still full, as is her way.
I notified the rescue of Triton’s
We are downsizing quite a bit in anticipation of moving in a couple of weeks. I am packing up some things that we don't use / need anymore, to donate to my son's Therapeutic Riding program. They are having a "barn" sale soon, with all funds going to the program.
I decided to donate the collection of china horses that I had from when I was a kid. They have journeyed with me across continents and countries. But I never display them anymore, and given the sale is for a horsey
Sometimes it is impossible to write. The words are there in my head, with pictures and music. I know how they should be assembled. I know that somehow they should matter.
I suspect that what I am seeing inside my mind is a glimpse of insanity. No, rather, future tense – a glimpse of what will be my insanity. Everything racing toward stasis. The front car in my thoughts will stop, and every single image, song, and phrase will slam into it, with crushing power.
July is the month of unkind anniversaries. We know what they are, even though we do not name them. They, that amorphous “they,” tell us that naming something, talking it over, makes the memory less painful, lets you move on.
But I know the reality is that once you name something, it becomes Real. It gains a permanence, in your mind, the memory of your muscles, the hollow arch of your soul. If you name evil, you give it a place. You call it across your doorway. You are foolish
Picckalo and Grace are in newly-wed love. They clearly are bonded, but Picckalo in particular cannot quite seem to sort out the relationship. He daily shows more Super Boar characteristics, rumbling and strutting with such determination that his poor arthritic, semi-paralytic hindquarters waddle frantically, with a mind of their own. He occasionally catches up with Grace, and tries to do the Dominance Dance, but whenever he gets closer than a nose-touch, she popcorns and bolts. He has never
Will she ever be all right?
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