Showing posts from October, 2017
I learned of Max’s passing on my way to work. I was sitting at the back of the FX. We had just arrived at Welcome Rotonda when I received the text message from my vet. Guilt, debilitating sadness, and anger swirled inside me. I cried. Max was one of the three dogs that comprise of my support group. He, along with Chichi and Marcel, witnessed how I nearly suffered a mental breakdown a few years ago. It was only nine in the morning and I had a full day ahead of me.
I went to work to distract myself. I knew that if I skipped work the pain would be unbearable. That night, on my way home, I kept thinking: Was I able to love him enough?
It was raining that night but I needed to bury him. I wanted to bury him no matter how. I felt that I needed to punish myself for what happened. I needed to punish myself for not attending to his needs, he, who wanted nothing else but to be with me.
I used a small sheet of corrugated steel to dig through the tough dirt. I just wanted to keep on digging. …