I watch him sleep, fingers interwoven on

I watch him sleep, fingers interwoven on his chest. I had a bad dream again. I wait patiently for the rise and fall of his chest to confirm that he is still with me. And there
in my chest I feel again the sting of uncertainty, that twinge of fear that he may not live. The doctors had told me he wouldn't live past three, but he had. I just didn't know how
to count in dog years. Was that 21 months? Do Chihuahuas live longer than your average dog? Should I consult a vet? Anyway, I'd raised him like my own child & now he was attending
to my sick mother. What a sweet Chihuahua. He fetches her walkers and fresh colostomy bags.
"Poo-poo stink" me thinks, unwilling to share the thought with my ailing mom. She may be old but she's not dumb. She knows I find it hard to see her like this, pooping all over th
e place, puking in the trash can instead of the toliet. "Mom, you need to be in a rest home. I can't bare to see you this way. You're a smart lady." She hung her head. "You're righ
t," my mother said, "but first let me finish feeding these baby birds." She continued to bring up the contents of her stomach into the bin before walking off. When I looked in I
Felt sick. These worms took up the whole blackbirds' mouths. There were 495 of them. That translated into more than enough for an emergency, for all the hatchlings. The agreement
that 24 blackbirds were required for the pie filling had not included any clause stating that said blackbirds must be well-fed, or even alive, but the supplier was a professional
magician from the radio days who would rather saw a woman in half than let any harm befall the birds coaxed out of his top hat, whom some saw as doves, and others as crows.

Started: 2012-06-02 11:55:23
Finished: 2016-12-26 16:06:02

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