I really want to use my blogs as rants really I used to write editorials back in college and was known for my acerbic wit but today instead my first humble offering is more sentimental and personal, my dog is dying.
I was raised with dogs and owned one nearly all my life, with the exception of some yrs. in my 20s when I lived in apartments and couldn't have one. One would think that I would be used to a dog dying, but I'm not.
Sam, my current dog, is a big fluffy mutt just 4 yrs. old. He used to weigh a robust 98lbs. but alas his dwindled to a skelatal 68. They say Sam has kidney disease and may have been born with geenetically poor kidney's, I think it's from the recent contaminated food because the food I raised him on and he ate every day were part of the recall. The prognosis is not good. Sam was given a 99.9999% chance of dying and so for a week now I've been on death watch. What's really crazy is that I'm in sales, I'm a cold hearted salesman. And yet each day I come home and don't work because I can't let my friend die alone. It's as if that one little piece of humanity left in me will be lost when Sam goes and I can't bear to give him up.
George Carlin, one of my favorite crumudgeons, said "remember, when you buy a dog, you are purchasing a small tragedy." I know this and have been through it before. Why, though, is it so personal this time? Why do my lungs feel bereft of air when I go to leave each day? I don't really know why I'm writing this, I'm not sure what it will do. None of you know Sam. If anyone knows some miracle cure, let me know, because I'll try anything. Sorry this was such a downer, I'll try to be far more contestuous and annoying next blog. Until then keep going on faith.
DP
