He had been at the center for so long, it was his last day there. No one wanted him. He was thin, riddled with fleas and worms, and had segments of porcupine quills stuck in his muzzle. There were a few puncture wounds where quills no longer occupied the holes they forged but instead where infection began to settle.
Insights gained from walking through the end of life with dad.
When a season of suffering entraps us, we can aid in either its pain, or its gain.
Sometimes, all of these losses make me feel like playing Whac-A-Mole. I just want to whack the stages of grief and not let them surface. It’s Christmastime, and I should be giddy with joy and wish to deck my halls! #RadiantlyBroken