Tag: loss

Piper Paws

Piper is gone. She was supposed to be put to sleep last Saturday but we had to reschedule for yesterday. She spent the weekend on my desk. She used the bathroom there on a pee pad and she couldn’t even stand or squat because of her leg. I cried all last week and this week. She was just the sweetest, most loving (to humans) little girl, and I miss her so much.

Her being gone has made me think of Mom, which has made me think of my brother. I don’t know what I’m going to do when it’s Phin’s time. Piper was for me, but she chose Adam, although she loved both of us. When Sprinkles, my other tuxie, was put to sleep (cancer), it was $25. Piper was $108. That just makes me furious. Yes, it was 10 years ago, but there is absolutely no reason for it.

My sweetheart

I’ve been working on my book a lot and I think I accidentally set it to be published on Amazon. I was ordering a proof copy and it popped up that I set it up for publication. It’s not supposed to be released until December! I am hoping I have to approve it or something so I can cancel. The proof wasn’t entirely finished but I wanted to check the formatting and spacing with a physical copy.

My teacher recommended a publishing press (she usually recommends journals) but I’m just not sure. I would love the exposure because I have no following, but I have major RSD. Plus, I would not appreciate edits without my knowledge or approval. Plus, I supposedly get 60% royalties with Amazon, but it’s just not adding up when I set the price. If I price the paperback version at $12 (which is ridiculous), I get $5. I didn’t want to make the price outrageous because that’s not cool, and it costs Amazon only $2.32 to print each book. Very hinky. Capitalism is out of control, or I’m just more aware of it.

~*~A Fish Named Henry~*~

I won a goldfish at the county fair.  

Poor goldfish — seeing that ping-pong 

ball looming toward his home like Apophis.  

His golden body glistened in the sunlight 

as he swam in a bowl won from the dime pitch.  

With the pride and confidence of any fish parent, 

I changed his water at the sink — and watched 

in horror as his slick orange body 

slid from the bowl and down the drain.  

The horror!  The absolute tragedy!  

Propelled by child’s logic, I fled 

the house and ran down to the creek bank 

to tell my brother and neighbor what happened 

and asked if they saw Henry swim out of the pipe.  

My brother deciphered my mucoid blubbering, 

then promptly laughed at me.  

Weeks later, our neighbor told me, 

whilst fishing, he saw a big goldfish 

swimming around and looking happy.  

It took me a few years to realize 

the truth, but when I did, I didn’t 

appreciate it any less.