Diamond Dogs Racing

It's been awhile since I've wanted to sit down and write, so much has gone on just in the last week, leaving my head spinning. But right now, every thing is quiet and it's lovely. All the dogs are at my feet, dreaming their doggie dreams, paws twitching in slumber scenes of chasing rabbits or squirrels. The Christmas tree is lit up, its blue lights and white shining star glowing off the hardwood. Occasionally the sound of the wind whipping around the house breaks the silence. But otherwise, this moment is perfect bliss. And so, the perfect time to write.

Sophie is at her first slumber party tonight. Ten giggly girls all under the age of eight in pajamas eating pizza and popcorn, watching "Grease" and gossiping about boys and teachers and school. She's growing up so fast. For Christmas, she emphatically told me not to get her any Barbies or any other dolls because she's too old for them. She wants her bangs to grow out. She listens to "radio Disney" and shakes her booty in a wild sort of dance in the living room. She is seven years old. Growing up so fast.

My dad is still in the hospital. Apparently when he'd had his sternal rewire, infection was already in the bone, and the pressure of the rewire broke two of his ribs, puncturing his lung. When he called his physician, the doc dismissed him, calling in a script of vicodin. Now, that puncture won't heal, weeks later. His chest blows up with air from crepitis depending on the position he lays in. I've not actually seen it, but my mom says it looks like a football under the skin. He's depressed, unable to even walk to the bathroom in his hospital room because he has to be attached to drainage tubes and a vacuum connected to the wall every second of the day and night, or his chest blows up with air.

I have prayed harder for him than I've ever prayed for anything in my life.

Today, I put a picture of Kahlua in an ornament on our tree. And I took Marley for his first puppy exam at the same vet where Kahlua died not a week earlier. I found pictures of Kahlua as a puppy recently. I'm at peace with her death and my decision. She lived a long, happy life, and died in my lap. I might not have been there with her at the moment of her birth, but I was with her all her life until the moment of her death, and that's all I wanted. The cycle is complete.

It's late. I think, like the dogs, I might lay down now during this quiet night and go to sleep. It's getting colder outside. I hope it snows.

Namaste.