sanura: (Default)
( Jun. 13th, 2013 08:59 pm)
I drove up to the house, home from work, to see Potato dead in the street. He was still warm. His eyes hadn't even clouded over.

I sat there in the street next to him and cried for longer than I realized at the time. I had my hand on his back, maybe I was trying to make sure he wasn't still breathing somehow, despite the huge puddle of blood under his head. There was no resistance whatsoever when I moved him; dead things are so strangely pliable when you've held them alive.

I asked mama to ask David to dig a hole in the backyard, and carried him over there. I put him in the hole, and then had to rearrange him so his feet didn't stick out. He was so easy to move.

Andrew said it best, I guess. When Laura died, I said death was weird, and it is. But he said it's weirder that we were ever alive in the first place. That helps a little.

He made the best noises.


sanura: (Default)


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