This is old news. However, it is news that rather affected me. On june 30th, my dear doggy Baskerville passed away. Now, the name Baskerville was a bit of a joke. He was a small crossbreed, nowhere near dangerous. It was hard to see his eyes most of the time - he was a huge ball of curls and the front side rather resembled the back side.
Anyway, on the morning of June 30th we called the vet because the dog was swollen and refused to walk. The vet told us his heart was giving out and that his body was filling up with fluids because circulation was failing. So we decided to put him to sleep, because letting him die like that would just be cruel.
Incidentally, June 30th was also my boyfriend's 3oth birthday. (I shall henceforth refer to the boyfriend as B., since it's rather silly to keep up coming up for alternatives for the word "boyfriend").
This is a fairly typical example of the mess that is my life - death and celebration of life in one bloody day. I couldn't write this shit if I wanted to.
To add to the general feeling of coincidental cosmic nuttyness, I managed to kick B's computer and it apparently stopped working. This was when I was at his flat alone and was trying pleasingly arrange his B-day gifts. One of the gifts in fact was a bowl with two fish, which I now believe was definately some sort of compensation for the previous pet-loss. One of the fish later died, and now there is only one poor fishie left. We named it Hercule Poisson. Another gift was a HUGE stuffed frog. He likes frogs. I like mice. Variation is key. And we're both just big kids.
Anyway, the computer later turned out to fine, as I had only dislodged a cable somewhere, but I was still a bowl of nerves by then. I pretty much celebrated the evening by getting more drunk than I've ever been. Which in fact is not at all drunk, as I nearly never drink. I was just a bit more...exhuberant. I suppose alcohol doesn't really work for me. Still : violet flavoured gin is pretty nice. I'll leave it at that.
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