We had to put our beloved 15 year-old cocker spaniel Fiona down last Wednesday, and our hearts are broken. She was my darling baby girl and the light of my days. The house is so empty now.
We who choose to surround ourselves with lives even more temporary than our own live within a fragile circle, easily and often breached. Unable to accept its awful gaps, we still would live no other way. (Irving Townsend)
It’s cold. And changing my antidepressant from Cymbalta (which was helping my fibromyalgia but had quit helping my depression) to Fetzima (vice versa) isn’t helping my grumpy mood any. I have developed strange food cravings (carbs, sugar, and more carbs) and I am frighteningly grateful for cable TV and Law & Order reruns.
We have just endured several weeks of a painful cold snap here in Minnesota–you know, the kind that makes your face hurt every time you go outside, and a high temperature that straggles above zero degrees Fahrenheit is cause for celebration? One member of our little family, however, is a champion at keeping warm. It’s a dog’s life, as the saying goes.