i don't think i've ever written about the good things here?

so of course the first time i mention bonez would be almost two months after his passing.

tonight i can't stop replaying the moment he died on the way to the e-vet. how i didn't really realize what had happened until i adjusted him and noticed the yellow stain on the blanket beneath him. how i desperately watched his rib cage for any sign of moment, my hand searching for any tiny hint of a heartbeat. the way his little snout twitched for what felt like a full minute. i remember on the phone to my mom asking her when it would stop. "poop is coming out." passive. he was long gone. spirited away on highway 101 northbound, vanishing between the impossibly tall pine trees.

i came home. sat on the edge of the bathtub and washed him. his feet, his face, his butt. i talked to him all night. he hated the bath. i put him in his bed as best as i could (rigor mortis was setting in a bit). i cleaned up the passenger seat. threw away the towel. threw away my baby blanket.

i'm sorry, but i did wash the dishes before i sat down. i didn't know what to do. i stroked your face. sobbing. talking to you. i didn't know what to do, so i called the pet cemetery even though it was past 7 on a saturday night. someone picked up though. told me i'd need to keep the body cool until monday. how much did he weight? i could fit him in the freezer. i asked them if it was ok to spend some time with him before that. of course.

sorry lately i can't help but slip into writing to bonez. anyways.

he fit perfectly in the freezer, and that was so hard. i could see it from my bedroom. from my bed. looming?

somehow i've managed to avoid real grief until now, the ripe age of 35. (i would say i'm lucky, but i think it's a symptom of hiding myself away from love.)

i'm dipping into hypoglycemia, so i guess i'll stop for now. i don't know. just needed to write about giving him his last "bath."

my greatest love. gone.