My neighbor and I have been at war the past week or so over her junk in my yard and a number of other things that I haven't brought to light but have just bitched about to those who will listen (abrupt and disturbing noises at 1:15 a.m.; stank cigarette smoking wafting up through my bedroom window; sketchy people who idle their cars in our shared driveway for whatever reason, etc).
Today, however, she came running out to catch me as I went to take the Big Black Dog (BBD) on one of his many daily walks. She and her boyfriend had to put his cat of many years down last night after a lot of deliberation about when to hold on and when to let go ... and after dropping a lot of money they don't have to spare.
That really got to me ... that despite all the crap of the past week she wanted to let me know what had happened to them so I could grieve with them. Because all other issues aside, the love of a pet is something we can both understand. I can't even think about the time when I will have to say good-bye to my BBD, my love, without getting teary eyed. Hell, I'm teary eyed even writing about it.
She told me they planned to have a ceremony today and bury Harley up the mountain. BBD and I said our prayers for the Humans and wished blessings on Harley boy as he goes to a pain-free afterlife. Though I'm not much of a cat person (I'm fairly allergic) I do believe that yes, all dogs go to Heaven and I imagine their feline rivals do too.
And so this awful thing that she shared with me made us OK again, at least for now. And we all cried together. (And the fact that she gave BBD — the dog of a vegetarian — venison tenderloin after our evening walk didn't hurt her chances for redeeming her good neighbor status.)
Ahhhhh .... for the (even if temporary) peace on Short Street.
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