Heartbreak

I love my house. It is a great neighborhood with kind people. But not everyone. Tonight my neighbors dog ran off. They went in search of him but could not find him. As the sun went down, we worried in the yard, thinking he must be having a grand ole time. He hobbled up in great pain. Someone shot him. Who shoots little Chihuahuas? He's obviously cared for, wears a collar. One of my neighbors shot him. He was rushed to the vet. I'm waiting to hear. It could have easily been my Scruff. Say a prayer for Julian. He's in bad shape.

And while I am emotional, might as well share this: My grandmother read this poem last year and sent it to me. We buried her last week.

Do not stand at my grave and weep.
I am not there, I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow.
I am the diamond glints on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain.
I am the gentle Autumn’s rain.
When you waken in the morning’s hush,
I am the swift, uplifting rush
of quiet birds in circled light.
I am the soft stars that shine at night.
So do not stand at my grave and cry.
I am not there. I did not die.

UPDATE: Julian did not make it. He survived surgery but the damage was too great. He had been shot twice. He had been kicked so hard his jaw was broken. What is wrong with people?