Day Three

This morning was the third sunrise without her. The third morning I reached for her dog bowl that wasn't on the floor.

This is the second day that I walked ou tthe back door saying from force of habit- "Shadow, you're in charge!". The second day I've talked to her like she was still there. We hung laundry on the line outside together. I told her to go to bed, I was going to run the vacuum. We put laundry away while watching her favorite afternoon TV shows. It hurts less if I talk to her. I can still smell her in the one blanket I didn't wash. I can still smell her in the stuffed animal tucked into my pillowcase- if I can smell her, she's still here.

Last night was the first night in over 6 years that we prepped, cooked, and ate a meal without a begging dog. In the beginning- it was Dottie. Hubby and mines diabetic, no bark, blind in one eye Dalmation. Now it was Shadow. There was no tripping over dog in the kitchen as Hubby brought the steaks to the grill. There was no hot dog breath blowing across our plates as we dined with the pigs in the livingroom. There was no critical need to wash dishes as soon as we finished eating to kill the food smell driving Shadow crazy in the kitchen.

This morning was the first morning that I woke up with no Hubby and no Shadow in bed with me. If the utter, childish bullshit at Hubby's work doesn't pan out, and the remainder of his "day off 24 hour shift" doesn't get covered- tonight will be my first night without Hubby or Shadow in bed with me (instead of Thursday, which gave me more time to stell myself to that pain).

Today there is more anger inside of me- enough to notice it more then the pain most of the time. It flashes and explodes without warning and I am completely intolerable to bullshit! So what, so and so pissed you off.. Get the fuck over it and do you're damn job! Don't call in "sick" you lame piece of shit! Does it dawn on anyone that crap like that is fucking retarded??? Seriously? It's your paycheck you're digging into, not ours. Hell- ours grows each time some lame ass excuse for "not feeling like being a working adult" pops up. Grow the hell up or quit! Please!

In case anyone was wondering- my Hubby has only had Sunday to grieve, and a few hours last night before bed. Why? Well, Monday was his regular office day which he was only going to work half of to come be with me. Nope. God forbid he should want family time when one of our "children" died. Don't get me started on how we don't get the priviledges everyone else gets because we don't  "have children". Today is his day off. Where is he? Oh yeah- see the above "so and so pissed you off" tangent above... A 24 hour shift on his day off. Awesome! Really! Crybabies. Tomorrow- who the hell knows but I'm fairly certain he won't be home for any of it. Thursday is his regular 24 hour shift...

The anger kinda takes control, which is bad and good. Bad- because I get aweful vicious when I am pissed. Good- because then I can't feel how much I hurt inside for that little while of becoming a rage storm.

Progress is progress... Inconsolable to deep sadness. Deep sadness crossed with talking to the passed along Doggie-Pup. Talking with Doggie-Pup to screaming rage machine mixed with deep bone aching hurt and sadness...

Is that really progress??


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