Merry Christmas, everyone! It’s certainly been a year full of hardship and loss, but also full of hope and joy. Doing my best to focus on the good times, and wishing everyone a wonderful holiday season!
Oh, and I will try to get pics up from Puerto Rico ASAP.
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There were flowers at the door when I got back from Puerto Rico tonight, but no card! Thank you to whoever sent them!
Edit: Found the card; it turns out it is from my team at work. Thanks, guys! 
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Everybody has heard of the 5 stages of grief, right? Sadness, denial, anger, bargaining, and acceptance. Well I seem to be experiencing the 5 stages of guilt. In some ways, I think end of life care is more difficult for animals than it is with humans, because they can’t communicate with you their feelings and wants, so the best you can do is guess. Did I do too little? Did I do too much? Was he sad when I left him alone at work? Did I make him sicker by feeding him chicken and rice sometimes instead of his special prescription dog food? Why did I cut his walks short to leave for work 10 minutes earlier? Was he scared when I brought him to the vet that last time?
I just keep replaying in my mind that last moment when I felt his head go limp in my hands, and wonder if the outcome would have been different if he had a choice. I can’t imagine what it is like not knowing that you are about to die, but being in a room full of people who do.
I guess I had always thought that when the time came for us to put Enzo down, he would be much much sicker, and that there would be no room for this tiny lingering doubt in my mind; no second guessing. My head knows that we made the right decision, (I think had we not taken him to the vet that morning, he likely would have been that sick within a day or two) but my heart aches every time I think about it.
I miss him.
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We put Enzo down this morning. We noticed that his belly was swollen, and he didn’t want to eat anything, which if you know Enzo, is pretty bad. So we took him to the vet, and she said that his kidneys were shutting down, so his belly, eyes, and lungs were collecting fluid, and that it was time for him. She left us for a few minutes while we said our goodbyes, then they came back with the injection.
I held his head as they put it in, and within seconds, his head dropped, and he was gone.
He was the worst, best dog I’ve ever known, and I know that wherever he is, he’s still causing lots of trouble.
Enzo, we love you.
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This Sunday I had a bit of free time, so I decided to take a bike ride through the park. I intended to take my long run route of going into the park and heading west until I hit Ocean Beach. Unfortunately, instead of crossing the 1 and heading north on Transverse to JFK boulevard, I turned onto 1 and started biking up a 6-lane road that eventually turns into a highway. I realized my mistake, but couldn’t really do anything about it because of the divider. So I continued up in the right lane, pedaling as fast as my little legs and my 8-speed bike would take me, but soon a line of cars appeared behind me. Most of them were able to go around me, and eventually I found a safe-ish place to pause and jump up onto the sidewalk, but not before a car passed by as the driver yelled, “Ever hear of a bike path??” Yes, yes I have.
So I turned around and headed back, went past the Academy of Sciences, which took me onto JFK. I somehow found myself back at a stoplight, so I decided to just call it a day and turn back, but not before another biker yelled at me for turning around in the middle of the road. It just wasn’t my day, apparently.
In other news, I’m pretty sure there’s a dead rat in the walls of my bedroom.
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And a…nevermind.
We went to the famed 99 Chicken for Peter’s birthday on Thursday (Happy Birthday, Peter!) and it is goooood. Don’t listen to the bitter hipster Yelpers who claim it’s no better than KFC; their truckers hats are on too tight. I dare say that it’s the best fried chicken I’ve ever had. Yum.
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From Buddy:
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C’mon, party people!
How was your Thanksgiving? I thoroughly enjoyed my 4 days off, especially because I hadn’t had more than 1 day off for about 2 months. Like my old calculus teacher used to say, “It’s like beating your head on the wall because it feels so good when you stop.” Hooray!
We had FriendsGiving at Yar/Jan/John’s place, and I was in charge of the turkey again. After this year, I’m pretty convinced the recipe is almost impossible to screw up, as we brined the turkey in a garbage bag, substituted some brine with soy sauce, and coated the turkey in the decidedly non-neutral olive oil, and it still turned out great. What wasn’t great, however, was when I spilled all the pumpkin pie filling all over the kitchen floor. Yay me.
The rest of my weekend was great — went on a hike, played some co-op Left 4 Dead, saw Quantum of Solace, got a lil’ tipsy on some Riesling (and no barfing!), and bought a bike! On Sunday night I rode to Yar’s house, (yes, a whole 0.9 miles away) and I thought my heart was going to explode. I’m out of shape.
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