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A Thousand Pound Weight on the Soul

I feel heavy. Not my body. That always feels heavy. This is a weight in my mind and heart. There are times when I am not alone in my thoughts, when I am working, when I am busy, that I do not feel this weight, but it comes back, almost immediately, when I am done with whatever distraction I keep on hand. It is a feeling of powerlessness and guilt. Powerless, because I’m afraid that there is nothing I can do to prevent the love-generating Abbey from dying, and guilty because I don’t always, or even really ever, feel this way about people, and as I find out more and more about canine cancer, I discover that there are things I could have done in the past to prevent it.

I never got Abbey spayed. I didn’t think it was that big a deal as long as I kept her away from other dogs. It wasn’t that I was breeding her or anything, the one litter of puppies she ever had was a complete surprise that came just after she spent her one night in doggy jail. I just never thought it was important. It seemed like a waste of money to get her a surgery that she didn’t need to live, since I have (since her one outing) kept her quite close and safe from impregnation.

I was horribly wrong.

Getting your dog spayed helps prevent Canine Cancer. The younger they are when it happens, the more effective it is. Now, as I am facing down the possible loss of my pooch, I wish, so very much, that I had just gotten the damn surgery done years ago.

I don’t know what the next couple of weeks are going to bring. I can’t make any decisions at the moment. I’m numb and heavy. I’m tired of all the misery that I seem to accumulate as I meander through life, and I just don’t know if I can keep going at this pace.

Something is going to crumble. Some part of all this has to snap and change.

It just has to.

Published by M.A. Brotherton

M.A. Brotherton is a writer, blogger, artist, and fat-kid from the suburbs of Kansas City, Missouri. He’s tasted a little bit of everything the Midwest has to offer, ranging from meth-tweaking rednecks in massive underground cave complexes to those legendary amber waves of grain. When he’s not writing, he spends most of his time screwing around on the internet.

3 thoughts on “A Thousand Pound Weight on the Soul”

  1. Kim Samsin says:

    Please go easy on yourself right now. The spay is not a magic bullet, either. Cancer in our animals (and in us, really) can come along even if we do all the textbook right things. Cancer is an asshole.

    I’m remembering how you said the other day she seemed cuddly. Take your cues from her and don’t rush yourself or any decision-making. I am so sorry that you’re dealing with this but I’m glad she has you.

  2. Brandee Baltzell says:

    I echo what Kim said. There is no guarantee. Cancer just sucks. Focus on what they have said about it being nonfatal. Know that your friends understand that you are hurting, and are sending love to you and Abbey.

  3. Tracy Mangold says:

    I’m sorry Matt. It’s not easy. Just know I’m thinking of you and you aren’t alone.

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