I have a blog post mentally written, but I ended up shuffling this afternoon’s schedule in order to take Neighbor Cat to the vet for an upper respiratory infection.
As we sat here in the vet’s waiting room, a grizzled man in grubby jeans and a work shirt came in and explained to the receptionist, in tears, something about waiting out in the lot because his dog can’t get out of the truck. His grief is so raw, everyone had to look away, like how you can’t look directly at the sun.
What do you say? Nothing. You can’t.