  I got a job, unfortunately, it begins in March, three kids, all roughly of school age, they're the intospective type, also big on building and destroying things. Tomorrow, I eat lunch with the boys and their parents as a sort of orientation thing. I'm not looking forward to it, not because of the kids, or the drive, but Cordy. I know life should continue, and will continue, whether I want it to or not,and maybe, according to some lifeless, souless bastards, a person can think about this obejectively and say 'Hey, it's only a dog," but I am emphatically not one of those people, and the profound lack of Cordy is a weight, a tear on my insides, and an ache on my head and heart. She was much too alive to be dead. I keep on thinking about whether or not she was in pain, whether she knew we were with her, if she was scared, I worry about that a lot, about many deaths; I think there can't be anything worse than dying scared. And, I keep wondering if things were Enough, did we do enough for her? Surely she didn't live enough. Did she eat enough, was she happy enough? Were we good enough for her? To her? I know she would have been a water dog. She would have jumped with reckless abandon into streams and lakes; she would have jumped all over us with her damp lean body. She would have done many things, and I simply can not express how much I miss her, how much I want to see her ears finally stand up, to see her get another pre-growth spurt fat belly.
So many things. I sort of think that if I get over this, it will mean that I'm not sorry anymore, that I am not admitting my negligence. I know, deep down, that this is a lie, and it's virtually impossible to entirely get over something the way I feel I will, and, also, it's utterly impossible for time to stop. Because of time, everything passes. It is possible that i may stop writing new blogs for a while. Until this is over. If that's going to happen, I'm going to put pieces of crap I've been writing the last while on, so that way, you all know I've not found something sharp.
(seriously, no threat, no worry of me damaging myself, there's no way i could do that to my family, and to kurt, so please, no concerned phone calls. ) Do you think she would have traded her life with us for something longer? 
