Sunday, March 19, 2006


I think I slept 20 hours out of 24 took a prodding call from Amy today to get me out of bed to church, which I'm glad I heeded, I needed to spend time in worship. I think both Amy and I are realizing that there was a lot of strain involved in hosting the Gomez family that we found ways to ignore...until we got them settled into a place where both we and they felt comfortable.

And now we're crashing.

Amy was at least conscious yesterday but I think she was quasi-sleep we're both a comfortable pillow away from a nap that could span 7 or 8 hours. Poor Lisa came down for a visit yesterday afternoon and I think the most intelligent thing I said to her was, "Zzzz I snoring?"
Being the delightful "adult" she is now...and a college student who burns the candle at both ends...she forgave my periodic drooling and snoring all the while I'm sure thinking to herself, "This has to be the most boring spring break ever!"

Anyway, Amy and I are about to embark on our Lenten walk...we're not going to set any land speed records...I think we'll just stroll and talk today and consider that sufficient. I'm big on Lenten disciplines, but this is a 40-day journey, my walk with Amy will last a lifetime. Plus it's humid as "Heck" humid or is it a dry heat down there?

Anyway I'm straying from the point, not that I'm sure I had one to begin with, except to say we're both tired and Sunday is slipping away so we're going to let it slide without feeling guilty about it.

I fear this next week will be "the one." The one where we'll have to say,"Goodbye" to Klondike. He's barely eating and we've given him every form of food imaginable. He's becoming increasingly disoriented, and it's obvious that he's uncomfortable lying down so he stands a lot... and stares at us. In the years past this has usually signaled that he needed something and since his repertoire of needs was limited to food, water, or going to the bathroom it didn't take Sherlock Holmes to crack the case. Now he's rejecting food, water he has unlimited access to...and he's apparently not rushing to get outside for "relief." So the conclusion is confusion...He knows something's wrong, but he doesn't know what exactly. It's sad and I'll confess a little creepy.

Having a big black dog staring at us all the time while we rush around trying to find some way to assuage his unspoken needs and failing almost all the time is a weird experience. Then when we shrug and say we've done all we can think of we turn around to see him standing there...staring at us again.

I am as prepared for "the decision" as much as possible I suppose...but I really don't want to think about it any more today.

It is exhausting.