Grief is a natural process that comes in waves

One week ago today our Skunk walked across that Rainbow Bridge.
One week of opening the front door and no grey cat sitting on the back of the recliner with a paw up yelling at us.
One week cooking and no little grey cat standing on his hind legs with his front paws braced against the stove or the dishwasher helping us cook.
One week of heartbreak, one week of getting used to only having five cats.
One week of sorrow.

And life moves on.
That's the thing about life, about sorrow.
The world doesn't stop spinning because your heart broke.

Normally I'd do a "we did this or we did that" type post, but really?
Today I'm not feeling it.

We stayed at home, Cowboy slept all day.

Big whoopity do, right?

I guess the good thing is I’m not crying all the time anymore, and I don’t feel like punching anyone either.

But I still cuss out Copilot.
Hey, the bloody thing had an upgrade or something and keeps messing up proofreading.

What?
You really think I can spell, use the right punctuation, and catch all my run-ons?

Now, I write just fine.
Ok, maybe I'm not a Hemingway or Fitzgerald, but I can write on my own.
It's just the mechanics that aren't so hot these days.

With that, I think I’ll get off of here and take a walk.

Oh, we took a walk maybe yesterday.
It might have even been this morning.

My brain isn't quite what it used to be either.

It looks like the house with the poodle and pit bull has either brought in a new dog or swapped the poodle for a different one.

We were trying to get a picture of this house that has a hummingbird feeder and, of course, hummingbirds.

Thought we were safe 'cause we didn't see a dog.

Got to the edge of the yard, and I'll be darned if a black, maybe cocker spaniel didn't leap out of the shadows, growling and barking at us.

At least it wasn't the pitbull.
I know for sure he’s bitten the Walker guy twice, and I have a feeling he’s the one who bit the postal worker too.

And we never did get a picture of the hummingbird.