I had offered to take my friend Motria out for dinner at Cafe tonight. A few nights ago, she confided in me that she was depressed because she was extremely worried about her cat Hank.
Poor little Hank has cancer and, even though he's on medication, isn't improving in any kind of significant way. There was discussion of euthanasia in his not too distant future.
I love giving support and comfort to my friends whenever they need it. It makes me feel good to know I can help my friends the way they've done a million times for me. Sometimes a sympathetic ear and shoulder to cry upon are way better than any kind of drugs.
Sure, it was difficult for both of us to talk about Hank and his inexcapable demise, because it inevitably led to talking about people and pets we loved and who had left this earth.
I can't speak for Motria, but the evening left me feeling frustrated and angry at how the uniiverse is run.
And, even hours later, one question rolls around in my head, searching for an answer (the answer):