Last night I'd planned to come home and write a whole big entry about love and life and work and people and all kinds of stuff. Instead, I came home last night and saw Catherine and Chewey, out on the sidewalk, hanging with the neighbors. Catherine walked up to me and said "well, we're down to one dog now ..." and then proceeded to tell me that they'd put Xena to sleep the night before. It was awful. She was crying and despondent and I know that feeling. She said that Xena had been at the vet's for a few days beforehand, and (n0thingman, you'll appreciate this) that Gloria, the neighbor who smokes so much that she can barely talk above a whisper, said something crass to the effect that they should've put Xena to sleep four days before so they wouldn't have to pay all the vet fees for those last few days. Beautiful. Just what someone who's lost a member of their family would want to hear.
So yea. I had all of this other stuff I wanted to write -- about this past weekend, about unixd0rk, about being six weeks without a cigarette -- but for now, this post will be about Xena and Catherine.