Most Precious Non-Object and Barely Street Legal Feb. 27

As I look around the house I see nothing that matters like Lupine. I see the jewelry hanging on the metal hook and the spiral silverware that my friend Robin helped me pick out for myself when I was divorced. How Robin encouraged me to get something for myself and in just a few years she died from cancer herself. I went today and did get something for myself I found these tiny bee earrings and wore them all week. I feel like my most precious non-object I have to hand over and say take her life essence with a needle, give her a merciful death in a matter of days is Lupine.

Lately I sleep on the floor by her so that now and then can pet her chest or touch her head so she can rest and stop licking the tumor that is riddled with bits of teeth and bone that must feel in her way and by licking it can be extracted. But it remains there; this mass of death and destruction. I bought more CBD tincture, a stronger dose in case and yet it is a whole bottle and so much will be left, so much not extending her life but gathering that last bit of comfort.

She is thin, like the first four years of her life when people would stop me and ask me if she is wolf or coyote. One young man sauntered up to me one afternoon and said “hey, she is barely street legal” with her long coyote legs and yellow eyes. Those very timeless yellow eyes.

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