This post should have a different title.

"The day of death" comes to mind, but that's a little dramatic, I guess.....it just has been a sad day for me and I'm struggling.

I got home from work at 9am and slept until 1pm, then got up to go to church at the nursing home with my mom.  On my way there, I saw something on the side of the road.  Having just a few days ago "saved" a snapping turtle from certain death on the highway by nudging ti with my shoe (and accidentally flipping it over in the process), I recognized the "something" as an upside down snapping turtle.  I couldn't tell for sure if it was alive or dead, so I hopped out of my car and walked over to it.  At first I thought it was dead, but I did the shoe-nudge thing again and flipped it over--sure enough, a small puddle of blood and a cracked shell....but the turtle moved its legs weakly.  I didn't know what else I could do, I was sure the turtle would probably die, and I couldn't help it in any way short of running it over with my own car (to put it out of its misery) and I couldn't bring myself to do that, so I had to leave it there on the side of the road with a little prayer.  (In case you've never met a snapping turtle, when they're scared, they're fast with the bite, which is very powerful and dangerous) I do not know how to pick up a snapper without getting bitten.  I'm still sad about that.

So I went to church with my mom.  That went fine....then I went home, intending to take care of the animals and take a nap.  First thing I found was Mrs. Bun, dead in her cage.  She's been sick for a long time, but yesterday she looked fine to me, although I noted when I petted her that she was getting very thin.  I felt very bad at the possibility that she may have suffered while she died.  There will be no more rabbits at our house.  I don't feel good about the quality of life they have, and the constant worry about predators is wearing.  I was surprised and saddened that Mrs. Bun had finally gone.  I feel guilty, like I should've done something.  Beating myself up.

Then....as if those two things weren't bad enough, I went into DD's bedroom to check on my mom's cat, and today he cried out in pain when I petted him.  He hasn't been getting up to greet me for several days now, although he's still using the litter box and eating and drinking, I know it's time.  He'll be going in later today for his last appointment.  I didn't think I could do it, but I did tell my mom that I "think he's sick and I don't have a good feeling about it."  I think my mom was more upset that I was sad than that her cat may be dying....I hope that's the case anyhow....every time I think about this my heart starts pounding and I get weepy.  I found my mom's cat back in 1995 when I stopped at a convenience store on a busy street on my way to work.  I could hear a cat meowing, and I saw him outside the door.  "Oh, someone's cat is waiting for them," I thought.  Nope...as it turned out, I was the only customer in the store.  I was worried that he might get hit by a car at the busy intersection, so after checking with the clerk to see if she knew where the kitty belonged, I grabbed him and dropped him off at my moms.  I asked her if she could keep him overnight since I was on my way to work and didn't have time to deal with him.  She said sure, and the next day, after I put up a bunch of flyers around the vicinity of the store where he found me, my mom said "You know, if you don't find his owner, I don't think I'd mind if he stayed here...." and that was that....He's been an amazing companion to my mom, both before Alzheimers was apparent and as she's gone through this.  I can't help but wonder if being separated from my mom is speeding his demise....I'm very sad, though, no matter what....

And then.....Sarah, aka WooWoo dog, the one with diabetes insipidus....?  I've been noticing that she's eating and drinking less, and spending even less time on her feet.  DH said he'd noticed it too, but he was hoping it was just a "phase".  I'm afraid that there are even more trips to the vet in the near future.  I feel guilty about her, too, because I get so frustrated with all the "accidents", and I get frustrated with how "stupid" she is....she is afraid of walking on the linoleum floor, but she will walk backwards on it.....and she shows affection to the other dogs by snapping at them (you can guess how that goes over, and her feelings are always hurt when the other dogs don't understand)....I haven't appreciated her like I should, I'm afraid.  I know that a few weeks ago, she apparently forgot how to come back into the house after going outside, and I got so worried, I didn't know how upset I could be when I envisioned not having her....and I know the time is coming....she's at least 15....she's blind, mostly deaf, incontinent for the most part, and I think she has doggy Alzheimers.  But as happy as I will be (when the time comes) to not have to clean up after her all the time, I'm going to miss her a lot more than I ever thought.

Oh.  And just in case you wanted to know....it's that time of month, and every emotion I have is basically magnified a hundredfold.  So I'm pretty sad.  Really, I look at all this death and potential death, and I think "what's the use, why am I wasting my time like this when I know my heart will end up broken?"

Tune in tomorrow.  I'll be feeling better, I hope.