I thought 2019 had its challenges, but I was wrong, terribly wrong. 2020 was full of hope and promise. But then tragedies struck one after another. Several celebrities died. Coronavirus swept over the globe. YouTube people we had grown to love died or committed suicide. And for me, it’s the year I lost three furbabies. Three. The first one went missing Mother’s Day weekend. She was let outside and poof, she was gone. We saw her once on a trail cam not far from our house. However, despite plugging her in on social media, driving around looking for her, handing out flyers and putting them every 20 feet in every neighborhood and intersection, etc. she has yet to be found. It was heart-wrenching, to begin with, because she is the baby. She was the runt and we didn’t know she would make it, to begin with. Fast forward several years and she is now experiencing head seizures. To this day she is still missing. The next weekend after she went missing, my beloved black cat, Nut-Nut passed away. He suffered from an illness where he would only eat and eat and eat but could hardly use the bathroom. One night he was clawing at my legs for my dinner, which I gave him. He played with me and snuggled me. Then several hours later I awoke in the night to the feeling that something in the house wasn’t right. I went into the living room and found him in a box we had received some Amazon purchases earlier in the day. He had pooped himself. I cleaned him up and he was extremely weak. I knew then that this was it. I cried and cried. I wrapped him in his favorite blanket and rocked him in our chair. When the hubby woke up he said let’s try to save him one more time. We hopped in the car and sped to the emergency vet clinic. We kissed him and they took him back. Before they could do anything at all, he passed. We had him cremated and placed him with my statues. Several months pass. My heart hasn’t healed but I am making it day by day. Then suddenly our eldest dog started slamming her head into things. She had never done that before. We rushed her to the vet. They were 90% sure that it was a brain tumor. I took the 10% chance that it wasn’t and put her on the antibiotics and the meclizine. She has spurts here and there but I noticed tonight that even when I put my hand in front of her eyes she can no longer see them. She won’t eat. She barely drinks. I cannot be selfish about this. I know what I need to do. But then she has another spurt and so I wonder if I am being premature and maybe I should let her finish out the medicine. These thoughts swirl round and round. By the time I publish this, I am sure we will have said our goodbyes and allowed her to pass over. The heartache I feel is enormous, like an oubliette, no end in sight. For me, 2020 has been the most tiresome roller coaster. One jarring moment to the next. Here I am bumbling from moment to moment and feeling beaten down and as un-authentic as one can be. Halloween came and went with absolutely no dressing up, no trick-or-treating with my niece and nephew, and no real decorating. Christmas seems to be shaping up to be more of the same. I am trying to stay positive but all I want is for 2020 to take a long walk off a short pier. 2021 has to be better. It has to be. It will be. I give it no choice. 

 

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