Sometimes life hands you those metaphorical lemons and you can work with them. They drive you to create to deal with the problems. And sometimes, those lemons squirt juice in your eye, and you stop, because it stings so much that you can't function. Writing seems like the last thing you want to do.
The last few days I've been walking around with lemon juice in my eyes. We had to put down my dog tonight. He was twelve years old, but he always acted like a puppy, until a few nights ago. He started to fail, and he failed fast. The vet said it was more than likely prostate cancer.
It sucks because he was a member of the family. It sucks because he was my best friend. It sucks because he always made everything better. If I was having a bad day, he made it better. If I was feeling bad, he made things better. He would look at me and wag his tail. He would roll onto his back so I could rub his belly. He would sit on my foot so I couldn't go anywhere without him. He would lay his head on me or my laptop so that I would pet him. My dad always said he had a special bond with me that he didn't have with anyone else.
Twelve years. That's over half of my life. Not only that, this is the first time in my life that I have not had a dog. I've always had one because any time one died before, we had more than one dog at that point. This is tough. For me, for my dad, even my mom had a tough time and she hadn't seen the dog in a while.
I'm not sure what I'm going to do without him, but I do know that right now I'm on Pause. My latest work in progress had a major plot point revolving around death and loss, and while you'd think that this would be the perfect drive and inspiration, it's not. So it's being pushed away for a little while. Hopefully not too long. And chances are, Tucker will play a part in this work in progress, in some way.