Not a False Alarm and For Joy Part (?)

Seems like the end of our pets' lives are like those volcanoes that erupt one time and scare the bejeezus out of everyone in a village at the foot of the mountain. Villagers emerge from under the ash and soot, amazed that they're still alive, dusting themselves off and thanking the gods. Of course, pressurized gasses and magma have been creating a giant, growing lump on the other side of the mountain which, after a couple more weeks, explodes and vaporizes everything within 50 miles.

Saraki is now experiencing profound kidney failure (just like Kuna-i); however, she is already on heart medication which thins her blood and makes intravenous fluids not a long-term solution. In short, she's in bad shape and probably won't see the end of the week. In this instance, just like in the case of Kuna-i, the early scare gave me an opportunity to work through a lot of emotions and more or less make peace with my beloved friend's mortality. It will still be really hard for me on the day of - but not nearly as hard as it will be for Sharon, who tends to dwell and regret. Also - I don't relish watching Lucy say goodbye for the last time.

I got away from work for a couple of hours over lunch to go to nearby Hyland Park, where I enjoyed my first trail run of the year. Freakish 70-odd-degree temperatures, chorus frogs so loud I could hear them from a quarter mile away, and my own sure and silent plodding along the turf cast away the pall a bit and uplifted my spirit. Warm, sunny skies and ife in process of renewal will do that.

Speaking of life being renewed - in light of the rash of death, destruction, and calamity that has beset my little home over the past year and a half, I don't know what state I'd be in if little Rose hadn't come along to reverse the trend. And what a joyous reversal she is.