August 28th, 2015

August 28th, 2015

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I haven’t been completely honest about my reasons for taking Shasta to the park each day, and, by extension, documenting our time together there.  It is part of my self-prescribed therapy.  At the beginning of July I lost Trinket, my right arm and (fur)baby of 15 years.  One of the chief regrets that weighs on me is knowing how much she loved to go to the park, and how few times we went in recent years.    I am determined to honor her memory, and to cherish the time I have with Shasta – as well as help her through the loss of her life-long friend and sister.

The past few days have been especially difficult for me.  Somehow, I can’t seem to find the strength to pretend to be a functional human being, to put on my happy face and act as if there isn’t a huge gaping hole in my life, in my soul.

20.2 sleepfeb4 (3)

24 Aug 2004 72004both (4)               30 june 2007 (1)

I miss you, baby.
I miss you, baby.
I'm so broken without you
I’m so broken without you