I find it hard to believe that it is half way through January and that this is my first post of the year. So far this year:
I have had two wonderful weeks in my new position as Dispatch Supervisor. After two years on graveyard shift, getting up in the morning is just kicking my derriere. There is so much to learn and so many people to get to know all over again and there is this thing in the sky when I get off work - I have learned that it is called the sun.
I have lost 10.8 pounds.
My husband and I are back down to 3 dogs. Goose, who had always rather hunt than eat from a bowl, took it upon herself, along with Piper, to use someone's goat ranch as a grocery store. She had always brought home very dead, very old, very decomposed parts to share but she brought home a very dead, very young, very fresh goat to share. Shorty, bless his heart, did what had to be done. Piper has not been seen since. I am assuming that the rancher also did what had to be done. I bear no malice toward anyone but the cowardly bastards that find it easier to dump a dog in the country than to do what has to be done. May God have mercy on them for they will find none in my heart. I am tired of having to kill dogs.
Two of my good friends, albeit friends who live in my computer, have had dogs die in the past two weeks, good and faithful dogs, members of their families for all of their lives. My heart breaks for their loss. RIP Boscoe and Buddy. Still waiting to hear the sad news about Bentley.
I am trying very hard to be cheerful. It is what I do but I am finding it difficult this January. Maybe when my body adjusts to my new schedule, it will be easier. Maybe it is because the word that keeps haunting me this year, the word that I asked God to give me to ponder this year, the word is:
Consequences.
Hmmmm.
2 comments:
First of all, congratulations on your promotion!!!! Making that switch from night to day is really hard though. Everything is going to feel off for a while.
Congratulations on your loss of poundage too. I wish I were in your shoes on that score...
I'm sorry about Goose, but I also understand why. Once they get that taste for blood, it's hard to break them. If Shorty hadn't taken care of it, you know that farmer would have. I hope your second half of January goes a bit smoother.
Ten pounds! Way to go. Maybe seeing sun is helping.
So sorry about Goose. That instinct is really hard to fight. chase, attack, kill- especially when the dogs get in there together.
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