Harbingers

Yesterday was the singles ward.  Ryan gave an enjoyable lesson.  My mother and I afterwards visited my grandmother, and together we went to Uncle Carl’s house to drop off a late wedding gift.  My grandma and mom are hilarious together…
 
At night, Dozer wanted to go out.  I had Cassie follow him, and left them there for the night, unless my brother let them in.  I hope it was a comfortable rest.
 
Cassie went blind a month or two ago, and the blindness steadily increased till it was total, which happened last weekend, I guess.  Mom and Dave took them to Manila for those few days; they take them every time they go.  Cassie also had some unseen tumors or something growing on the right side of her head that made the area sensitive.
 
You can see Cassie and Dozer in the first part of my Christmas video above.  Dozer’s the Dalmatian, Cassie the other.
 
I complained to my mom recently that Dave was bad at giving shots.  I’d heard him once tell her how he couldn’t give Cassie more than half her insulin shot because she was moving around, and I saw him a previous time botch the job by not holding her still, expecting her to just stand perfectly motionless; when she moved the tiniest bit, he let the needle get knocked away.  It seems like he just doesn’t care about it.  He seems to not care about life at all, only ending life.  He was the one who accidentally stepped on our newborn kittens that decade or so ago, killing them.
 
A fire burned in the hills above our house today.  It smelt like smoke, and the sky above was hazy while it was clear to the west.  As I waited for the bus, a flake of ash floated down right in front of me and gently rested on the grass.  The bus driver thought it was some welders who’d started the grass on fire.
 
At my afternoon shift, another biker almost got pancaked.  He was kind of late starting across but still had plenty of time, especially at his speed.  I’d just finished crossing the road toward him when he passed me into the intesection.  A big left-turning pick-up was trying to beat two on-coming cars, and didn’t see the biker till he was a few feet away.  He stomped his brake, leaving the truck right in the path of those cars.  The car on the left was able to pass him, and the car on the right trickily swerved left around him right after the other car passed.
 
This kind of thing happens every day.  It’s never my fault directly, but it’s always something that I could have prevented if I’d had just a little more inspiration at the time, been a little more cautious.  But at least there are other times when I seem to get stuff right, and nothing happens that might’ve happened.
 
I went to school after that.  The bus was bothersomely late; I saw why when it came.  It was nearly packed.  These UTA people need to show some foresight, or even hindsight, and get more buses on these busy routes.  The train was almost Korean on the way back too.  I stood for most of the ride.
 
I got home and was met by a happy Dozer, as he always is.  I called Cassie, but she was gone; must’ve been downstairs or somewhere.  I started reading some disgusting pro-Obama woman spew hatred about unborn babies, condemning them all to death, as if amnesiac about her own beginning.  It was so weird, the way she was insulting embryos.  She wasn’t detached at all; she blatantly disrespected them, as if personally offended, as if unborn babies had killed her dog or something; portraying them as vilely as you’d expect a Klan member to describe an African.
 
It makes me sick, people who only want to destroy things, only ever aware of their own comfort…
 
Some minutes later, Dave walked in.  It’s to his credit that he informed me directly, I guess…  Probably his most noble act.
 
"You knew that I took Cassie in today and had her put down, right?"  I knew what he was saying before he was even half finished with that sentence.
 
"I do now," I answered calmly.  He didn’t hear, and I repeated it.  That was all we said.
 
…Ah…
 
…I hope she slept well last night…
 
I immediately started telling myself not to blame him, that I didn’t have the whole story, and that it might just be coincidence that it’s always Dave involved in these deaths.
 
But… even if she did start barking and howling, and was suffering…
 
…Well, I know now how pro-life I am.  I hate euthanasia.  "Mercy killing", they call it, admitting that they are killers.
 
Death is pretty much the closing of the book.  There’s nothing worse than it, in this world; nothing beyond it; nothing can surpass it.  It’s the final period of the last paragraph; it’s the signature to the journal entry, and there are no post-scripts.
 
There is nothing merciful about ending somebody’s earthly existence, even if painful.  Sensation IS life.  Pain is life.  There is no such thing as "mercy killing" — there’s only "killing".  It’s a ridiculous idea.
 
Dave, I guess, doesn’t believe in life, and would do the same to his own parents… or his own wife.  Oh, I don’t mean to diminish any pain he might feel.  But I do mean to point out that in order to escape their pain, AND to escape his own pain, he’s willing to snuff out the lives of those close to him.  Poof, just like that.  Gone.
 
…Dead.
 
So, euthanasia is a sort of suicide by proxy.
 
Well, I hope he goes before me and before my mother, so he won’t have our blood on his hands.
 
On my part, I don’t think I’ll play the angel of death, if it ever comes to that.  Forgive me if it sounds self-righteous…
 
…but I think I’ll do what I can to bear his pain with him, as long as possible.
 
I think I’ll let him stay alive.
 
-Steve
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