Status

The pouring in of support has been amazing thank you. Our phone is still ringing fairly constantly and I'm getting emails from those who are too reluctant to call and make it worse.

We are still fucked. The littlest shit sets us off, Simon pacing the house wondering where we have hidden his sister, the fact that I haven't needed to fill the water bowl for 4 days.... shit like that.

I even got a call from someone from a health anxiety message board I go to. It was surprising, but appreciated and made me laugh at it.

From Mr. Morgan: "Who was that?"
"A hypochondriac."
"A random one?"
"No. Don't you know all hypos are on a mental curcuit like the Scientologists? We sense when one of our own is in pain and begin joining forces."

We are trying to find humor.

We threw out all 8 bottles of Delilah medicines this morning. I was caught trying to smuggle them to safety, and I don't know why I wanted to keep them. Mr. Morgan pryed them from my hands and it was a voilent, drama filled struggle. I'm just not ready to wipe out all signs of her, yet they are the things torturing us the most.

Weeman is hanging in. We are giving him special attention, but I know Mister resents it. Simon is not the type of dog Mr. Morgan will bond to, and he swears he will never let another dog get so embedded into his heart. That's the grief speaking, we just have to find another girl that is as special. Will be hard, and it's a long way down the path. Just wanted to update that we are still miserable.

I will put in older entries so it's not so doom and gloom until I can be my smart ass, cynical self again.

-DM