There are days when I lose my way. After Mrs. Lion kissed me goodbye and left for work, I followed my usual routine. I washed and shaved. I brushed my teeth. Then, I went into my office and told Alexa to play Mozart symphonies. She isn’t very good at playing the ones I ask for. But, she manages to find something by Mozart.
Then, I opened the manuscript for my new book. Writing is going very slowly. I’ve been listening to the audiobook Stein On Writing by Sol Stein. It’s an excellent guide. Hopefully, his advice will make me a better novelist. I’m losing hope that I can write something people will want to read. Writing is better than watching old sitcoms on TV. So I persist.
I haven’t been interested in sex. Mrs. Lion asked me if I wanted her attention on Wednesday night. I declined. I’m not sure that I said no because I wasn’t really interested or was put off by the question. It isn’t Mrs. Lion’s fault. I’m tired of sex being unemotional. I know, I sound like a girl. I know Mrs. Lion loves making me happy. It’s just that asking if I want sex is like asking if I’m ready for dessert.
Obviously, my mood is dark. Part of the reason is losing Daisy. She was with us just a few days short of nine years. The image here was taken when she was a year old. Even though we will be bringing Willow home today, I will still miss Daisy. I know that people like to attach a lot of sentimentality to the loss of a pet. We want to believe that they are in a better place. I try as hard as I can to believe that. I can’t. She’s gone. My only solace is that she isn’t in pain.
I often read of the “rainbow bridge.” I did some research. The idea is that when a pet dies, it waits in a meadow until its human also dies. Then they go together into heaven. The idea is to provide comfort to grieving pet owners. I don’t like the idea at all. If you believe in an afterlife, then doesn’t it seem cruel for a beloved pet to just hang out waiting for you? What happens if the pet belongs to a family? Does it have to wait in the meadow until they all die? Nope. I want to believe that if there is life after death, Daisy is having a great time and not waiting patiently for me to die.
I selfishly want to be able to feel her snout on my leg as I scratch her ears. She helped me forget that my aspirations as a writer are doomed to be unfulfilled. That doggy smile and gentle reminders that she wanted treats let me leave the keyboard to pursue more useful activities. Willow will learn to ask for treats. It won’t be the same. Over time, she will learn to distract me. In the meantime, I’ll sit here and pretend to be a novelist.