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Last night was not a good night for me. It started badly because my back was sore. It had been a couple days and yesterday was just worse and I was tired, so I burst into tears. After calming down, Marc got me some pills and I went to bed. My muscles relaxed, but then my mind started thinking about stuff…

Let me put you in the picture.

Yesterday, after receiving the magnetic necklace, I went looking for all my other necklaces that I had been given and never worn. In doing so, I found Fayth’s metal check chain (or choke chain).  I gave it a kiss and put it back and left the bedroom, having found what I wanted.

Earlier in the week, or last week, I was waiting for Marc to come out of work and I saw a guy that I could barely look at. Why don’t I like him? As Fayth neared retirement, we had certain routines going, that minimized exertion on her part. It also made for some obedience routines as well. When we arrived at work, she waited at the bottom of the stairs, while I took the detour up the ramp in my wheelchair and then I would call her and we continued to our usual spot for morning bowel routines. As we left work, she lay by the pillar in front of reception, watching for Marc while I went down the ramp, and they would come down the steps together. Also obedience, since she was told to stay in that spot until further notice. Not that she would mind, since being old, she had little energy anyway.

This guy, every time he saw Fayth would say loudly, “Careful, that dog bites!” Or something to a similar effect. When he did not see her, he’d ask me, “Where’s your dog that bites?” He never gave any indication that he meant it as a joke and each time I protested, saying that she was the most gentle dog in the world. Never mind the fact that she was so old that she didn’t have the energy to do anyone harm anyway.

This all came flooding back to me late last night and I burst into tears and could not stop. To say that I hated him at that moment was an understatement. I wished I was not in a wheelchair so that I could punch his lights out. I wanted to hunt him down and make him apologize for insulting my best friend. Fayth brought joy to so many people and to imply that she would bite someone was a personal insult to me.

Marc said I should pity him for being so stupid and narrow-minded. I should just remember all the joy that Fayth brought to everyone else. If I see him again, I don’t know what I’m going to do. Whether I will keep quiet and look the other way as he passes, or confront him and ask what kind of perverse pleasure he got from insinuating that my dog was aggressive.

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