Monday, July 12, 2010

Fibs We Tell

While it's certainly a sin to tell a lie, there's nothing wrong with relating a Fib from time to time.


Fear
serves
to shake
me awake.
No falling from bed,
just falling from a dreamless peace.


We should find out today if the mutton head's growth on her backside is merely a benign tumor in need of excising or is something more nefarious. Gallows humor reigns supreme during the waking hours, but worry seems to envelop me in the other hours.


Truly, she is just a dog, and dogs are fabulously lucky if they get a terminal diagnosis. Unlike watching the slow march of death in a person, we can humanely stop a dog's suffering once it begins.


I'm just hoping I don't have to be humane.



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