Bleck.

Not sure what prompted me to stick Horatio in the sink last night. I guess I could say it was to give him a bath, but it wasn't. I was looking at the pictures this morning and realized they look like I feel. A little pitiful.

I got word this past Sunday that one of my cousins passed away. She was only 27 years old. We weren't close, but that didn't change how incredibly sad I felt for her daughter, her parents, her brother... It's just such a shock when someone so young passes away. It's just so hard to make sense of it. I can't wrap my head around it.

Yesterday morning I got the news that one of my friends dogs died suddenly during the night. The dog, Wittle, was the sister of three of my dogs. Tom and I raised them all from three days old after their mom had died having them. My friend Lisa came over one day to see them and without missing a beat said "That one is mine." She was the runt of the litter and weighed 2 ounces when I got them. When I went to pick them up from the desperate woman who called begging for help, I looked into the box and literally thought she was trying to pass off a litter of gerbils as dogs. They were that tiny. That was almost eight years ago. And today my heart is aching for that little baby who we bottle fed and loved until we could pass her on to her new family. And as much as I hurt I know these families, my cousin's family and Lisa's family, are desperately figuring out how to move forward.

Some people might think I'm nuts to write about the death of a person and the death of a dog in the same breath. But love is love. I am not claiming that one is more valuable than the other, only that the pain is real. And I wish them both relief and peace from the pain.