A month

has passed since I've blogged. I've given up checking the state of the world and the state of the country; after I listened to Chris Hedge speak on Alternative Radio a couple of weeks ago, I was severely depressed (nearly paralyzed, in fact). His topic, the death of the liberal class, was based on his book of that title.

As I say to my friend H, 'we are so (very) hosed.'

In that time period, I was also fighting a major intestinal bug, which came and went seemingly at will. I felt miserable one day, though I went to work. When I returned home, the house electrical panel was shorting out, which, in turn, made my computer crash.

Hard drive wiped clean.

Back-up misfired, and I have half of what I need.

What I say next will tell you exactly what my priorities are: my first thought was 'Sheee-it! I lost all of K's photos! Damn! The Little Princess's photos are gone, too!'

Fortunately, however, 95% plus of these are on my camera's memory card, the internet, in email, or on this blog. Gotta love Ethernet-land.

The day after The Major Crash, I felt quite ill, and figured that taking a hot shower would at least help make me presentable. Ran water into the tub from the tub faucet till it was hot. Then flipped the lever for the shower.

Nuttin'

Shit! Turned water off, and galloped down the stairs. Water was seeping down the wall of the 1st floor bathroom & across the new flooring. I grabbed a pile of dog towels & mopped it up, then thought 'shit!' again, and galloped down the basement stairs.

Sure 'nuff, a BIG puddle was on the floor.

A number of stupid little things like that have occurred -- misplace the remote to my car, misplaced all the dog leashes, got snowed in, found that my snow plow guy isn't worth hiring back next season. And more. Nickle and dime stuff, but it does add up.

And I miss my boy. I think of him every day. Sometimes I think of his antics, his goofy, funny side. Sometimes I remember how wise and kind he was. I contemplate how much he loved people. And I also remember how hard his last months were on both of us. I hope I didn't wait too long. I hope I didn't keep him here for me for one second longer than he needed to be here.

Late during the summer of 2009 (his last summer), I'd leave him in the yard because he no longer wandered. He'd just lie in the yard and let the breeze waft over him. I'd check on him every 10 minutes or so. And, typical K, he'd made a friend of a stranger, even on our quiet road. A woman was hunkered down on the front lawn, and my big baby was sitting in her lap. She'd been biking by, and stopped because 'he was so beautiful and looked so kind.' She was amazed that K was an Akita. They are, after all, on the 'dangerous dog' list.

I love my girl dogs. The Little Princess is the easiest, most well mannered dog I will ever have. And The White Dog is a hoot. She is endlessly entertaining, despite how frustrated I can get. She keeps me laughing!

But neither of them are My Best Boy.

I dreamt of him last week. He was at the end of his life, and the anguish, worry, concern, focus, energy, fear, and time commitment came rushing back. I was in it, up to my neck, back to thinking about anything, everything, I could do to help him.

Perhaps it was his way of telling me it had been his time. Whatever it was, it was simply wonderful to wrap my arms about his big neck and tell him that I adore him.

I miss you, buddy. You are, and always will be, my best boy, my heart of hearts. I'd have cared for you for the rest of my life IF you'd have had quality of life.

So I'm in a semi-hibernation. The funky weather (did that damned rodent tell the truth about an early spring), mud season and last night's time change are just icing on the cake.

Oh, right. I can't eat cake. My gluten-wheat-corn-oats-sugar-soy-dairy-free diet won't allow it.