I’ve been meaning to blog a few times since the last time I posted but I never got around to it. My bad. What is there to say really? 2020 was a complete and utter shit show and 2021 is like hold my beer. For the past year I haven’t been living just existing. It sucks. Everything sucks. I don’t think I can take another year of this. I don’t think I want to.

In general the days, weeks, and months just blurred together. Is it really February 22, 2021 or December 84, 2020? Seems like when the days didn’t blur they straight up sucked. Cinnamon was ill towards the beginning of November. She progressively got worse to the point that she stopped eating, drinking, and didn’t even want to go outside to potty or for her walks. Anyone that knew my greedy hound knew that she was always hungry.  We got her an appointment to see the veterinarian. Long story short my worst fear was confirmed. The vet suspected cancer and recommended that we euthanize Cinnamon.

I always joke about not having a heart. I honestly wish I didn’t because my heart broke in that moment and it’s been broken ever since. I thought bad case scenario she might need an I.V. and to stay overnight. I never thought I’d leave that day without my stalker, my puppy girl. I sure as hell didn’t think I’d be wishing my sister happy birthday and a few hours later ugly crying while trying to say goodbye to my dog.

I’m not even sure how I managed to make it home. For the first time since I don’t know when I had a migraine. The headlights of other vehicles made it worse and then the nausea set in. The stretch of highway I was on has been under construction for years, seriously. Because of the construction there was no shoulder to pull off to for miles. I’m looking for something, anything I can vomit in while trying to drive with migraine related vision problems and fighting the urge to vomit all over my windshield and dashboard. I had one of Cinnamon’s doggy bags on me and finally managed to open it with one hand while steering with the other. Don’t know how but I managed to make it home in the knick of time. I put Tallulah in park, took off my seatbelt, jumped out the car, and tossed my ever loving cookies in the driveway.

That wasn’t a great night. Waking up the next day might have been even worse. I woke up to take Cinnamon out and remembered I didn’t have to because she’s dead. That hit different. I pretty much stayed in bed that day and the next day and the next. There was no reason to do anything.

Not even going to lie, I was disappointed with some of my “support” system. Part of me will never respect or forgive them but my shoulders are broad and strong, perfect for carrying grudges. I mean what’s a few more in the scheme of things? People wonder why I don’t open up or give them a chance? Because a lot of you motherfuckers are cut from cloth I wouldn’t wipe my ass with. That’s why. I was surprised by some people stepping up, reaching out, and checking on me. I think I thanked them but I’m going to do so again because life is shitty and good people should be aggressively appreciated.

While I was trying to work through that the hits kept coming. About a week later I found out one of my friends died. Back in the day I blogged about her. She was amused by the blog name I gave her, Ms. Black & Wild. I’ll miss joking with you about how your mom liked me more or who was harder and thus needed to be obeyed. You’re the inspiration for me angrily shaking my fist at people. 😂

Rest in peace Cinnamon and Ms. Black & Wild. I don’t know if there is an afterlife but if one exists then I’ll see you on the flip side. I’ll bring the pizza.