It’s no secret to anyone who knows me, that this year has been a particularly bad one for my family and I. There has been a LOT of serious illness among family members, very stressful times with the business and finances in general, pets going missing (Frankie, see here and here) and the biggest and worst thing, the suicide (see here).
Just when I was starting to put myself back together again after that, there comes some more bad news.
On Friday night, Lexi didn’t come back in at bedtime. I feared straight away that this wasn’t good, our luck has been so ridiculously crap recently, but I held out hope that she might have just gone a bit far (our garden goes down to a valley so there are loads of places for her to explore and hunt) and that she would be waiting at the front door in the morning, yeowling to be let in. But she wasn’t.
So as time went by, we started to worry more that she had done a Frankie on us. Then, mid afternoon Saturday, we made the upsetting discovery. She had been hit by a car just down the road, we presume that night. My poor little girl. I just couldn’t believe it! I was hysterical, but I took her home, and my dad buried her.
Like are we frickin’ cursed or something?! We are SO careful with our pets, we always get them neutered, keep their vaccinations up to date, get them micro chipped etc, and love them so much. Why don’t they go down the valley or in all the neighbours gardens rather than out on the road?!
I guess I’m a little angry, I know there is no such thing as curses and I shouldn’t take these things as an attack on me personally, but it sure does feel like it sometimes.