I think my dog is dying. I feel so helpless. All I can do is fidget and pace, and that changes nothing. This morning I cuddled him and said, “There are tears in my future.” I take him to the vet this afternoon. I suspect it won’t go well.
One of the downsides to owning a pet is the difference in life spans. Even if, by some miracle, there’s an easy fix for my dog’s situation, there will be tears in my future. Unless I get hit by a crosstown bus, I’m going to outlive him, and there’s not a thing I can do about it.
Discussing this with a friend, she reminded me of the Serenity Prayer.
This is sage advice. There really is no point in getting worked up about the things I cannot change. But dammit, no, I don’t accept this. I just don’t. So I guess I have the “courage” and “wisdom” parts down, but Serenity… ah, Serenity… she eludes me.