life without sadie, day 5
ooh, i seem to be entering the anger stage of grieving. well either that, or it’s that time of the month. i was curled up in bed reading instyle last night, and all i could think was, “stupid fashion, totally sucks this spring.” the cookies i made didn’t come out right. stupid cookies. i don’t have anything to wear, even though i did laundry yesterday. stupid clothes.
i tried channeling it with some manual labor, so i vacuumed out the car today–it totally needed it–and that helped a little bit. now i’m looking around for more mindless tasks that i can really focus on. it’s one of those days where scrubbing the kitchen floor cinderella-style seems like an excellent idea.
it’s starting to rain here, and my first thought is how you hated rain. you could splash through a creek and drink out of mud puddles, but walk on the damp grass? oh, no. your paws would come up, like you were a dainty princess who would never deign to get wet. remember when we were hiking in the bitterroots and that hail storm came up so suddenly? you promptly turned around, headed in the exact opposite direction of the car with all the speed you could muster! you had to be tracked down and carried back to the car, nestled inside my sweatshirt and safely covered by my rain jacket. i smelled like wet dog the whole ride back. well, so did you, so i guess that makes us even steven.
so right about now, there should be pee puddles and doggy bombs accumulating in the house. i guess we’re both spared the indignity now.
molly, your dad, and i are headed up to the mountains this weekend for some much needed r & r. allow me to say that as much as i loved you (and still do), it is so much easier to pack without you. all molly needs is food and a bowl and a place to rest her head. no pills, no pill pockets, no wet food–okay, she seems to have developed a fondness for wet food, but we’re trying to ween her off of it.
i probably won’t write for a few days, but i’ll think of you often.