I had a birthday recently. No big deal, just a day like any other. I became a year older, but still no big deal. We all have to do it, like it or not. The alternative isn't very appealing. Not all of my friends wished me a happy birthday. That's okay. You can't dictate other peoples' actions. Or manners. No big deal. Except it kind of is.
Were my feelings hurt? Yes. A little. Did it kill me? No. Nobody ever died for lack of a greeting. If I were going to die of hurt feelings, I'd have been dead years ago. Stuff happens. And you move on.
I thought about getting myself another dog for my birthday. It's been a year and half since I lost my last precious little dog. And a home without a dog in it feels empty. A dog's joy at simply living is infectious and just makes you feel good. But so far I haven't been able to bring myself to get another one. The pain of losing her is still so raw. I have 2 urns here now, and I just don't think I could stand going through that heartbreak again.
I don't know which is worse, not having a dog or enduring the pain of losing one. Maybe someday. I never say never. But I think ... not now.
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