Justin: In the Feast of Being Able to. Amen.

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A Few minutes to spare because of a cancelled meeting.

I get around 40-50 posts per hour to approve for this site, all of which are spam, of course. There really is no point to my site but for me waste a few minutes typing nonsense 5 times a year, not to express myself so that spammers can post ads.

So I’m removing the ability to comment.
Update on Clarence:

They stopped making Humulin U, the old pet insulin. Humulin U was about 35$ per bottle, lasted about 60 days. The new pet insulin is 86$ per bottle and is to be discarded after 30 days. This means we have left the realm of kitty love and entered the stupid zone.

This challenges one’s kitty love. I falter. It’s still a cinch to give a pet insulin, so that’s not an issue (tiny needle, they don’t even flinch and learn to run to you for it). But on one hand, there’s the little luxuries in life… like eating out at lunch, etc. On the other, there’s Clarence. Ah well. Pets are a real quandry when it comes to drawing the line on care. If Clarence was sick in some other way, putting him down might be easy. But the little fat-wad is perfectly healthy so long as he gets his insulin.


So I have this buddy named Chad… this is a great story. So he calls me one day a few months back and says, “Leigha died yesterday.” Leigha is the family dog – large, black, mixed breed, 7 or 8 years old.
“Awww, bud. I’m really sorry to hear that.”

“Yea, thanks. It was pretty sad. She died while she was sleeping, though, so that’s good.”

“Yea, so did you and the kids have a doggy funeral in the yard?”

“Naaa, we took her to the woods.”

“Oh, I see.”

“Yea, just me and Gideon, though. The others stayed home. I loaded the dog up in the cargo bed and we drove out to the National Forest. I told him, come on son, help daddy get Leigha out of the truck.”


“Yea. We were driving away and Gideon said, daddy, are we just gonna leave Leigha in the woods? I had to tell him yes, we are cause she died.”

“But… uh… didn’t he know that when you were burying her?”

“Oh, we didn’t bury her.”

“WHAT!?” At this point I begin laughing uncontrollably. I couldn’t hear what he was trying to say from the sound of my own hysterical laughs. “Let me get this straight! You took the dead dog and your 4 year old son, had him help you DUMP its body in the woods, then just hopped back in the truck and drove off!?”

Chad suddenly sees the humor, and starts laughing, too. “Well… he’s gotta learn about death some time.”

“And about worms and buzzards and coyotes, too?”

So then, for weeks after, when anything would remind them of Leigha or someone would mention her, Gideon would say, “She’s dead, right daddy?”

I thought about making them a hand-drawn sympathy card. On the front would be two stick figures standing in the back of a pickup truck, having just tossed a dead dog, still airborne. It would say, “Sorry about your loss.”