Rainy Sunday

It was the second of two very wet days in a row. The rain poured down steadily and hard. When I went out to the chicken house, my feet actually sank into the ground and water oozed out of the grass around my shoes. I was glad I went, though, since Demeter and Annie were out of both food and water. Demeter snubbed me when I appeared, and Annie pecked my feet irritably while I filled their dishes. Chickens may not be very smart, but they certainly have personalities.

I spent the moring talking to Mike on the phone and the the afternoon visiting with Diana. Mike's dog, Zeke, has something wrong with his leg that the vet thinks may be bone cancer. Tuesday he will see a specialist and find out what the problem is. I am not allowing myself to think very much about it, but it would be a terrible injustice (as if there were such a thing as justice) if another one of Mike's dog died. His first Rottweiler, Max, died of some mysterious disease right before Mike's eyes when he was only four. Then Zeke's brother Beau died when he was less than two from cancer. Mike's dogs are his family, and the loss of the other two was devastating to him. Losing another so soon would be just terrible. Despite his cynical, tough-guy attitudes , Mike can be a very kind and tender-hearted person. He has had a hard, often sad, life with few real pleasures and very little genuine happiness. The dogs are what give his life outside of work meaning, provide him with company, conversation and love. It is very upsetting to think that he may have to go through the death of another one now.

Well, I am trying to keep from speculating, but obviously I am touched by this ominous possibility. I avoid looking at my own little family as these thoughts run around in my head. The sight of them brings me to tears.