It is Done

This is my old Gus sleeping in the tomato plants. He looks so peaceful. I miss him so. 

3^rd January 2015

Dear Cassi,

Well, it happened, August the dogust, my old Gus, is no more. It had already been done when I got up and Pickle came and took me his collar so I could inform animal control that we no longer had a Doberman Pincher. Pony Girl came and took all the old dog food and dog medication. She got all the dog bowls and such and we were left with the feeling that we would never have another dog in this house.

Pickle cried, but I did my crying the night before, and so I poured the whisky. Forgiven by Wild Turkey was our drink of choice, and we had it with butter scotch cream soda. Pickle kept it going with every kind of alcohol we had in the house to numb the pain of putting the old dog down.

Me, I had a beer to chase the whisky, but spirits never did live in me. I have always gone to my grief alone and so doing so meant keeping my strength in company. I had dishes to do and food to cook with no time for my morning. I guess you know that feeling.

Stay strong, little sister,

Richard Leland Neal

The Sick Old Dog

First of the New Year 2015

Dear Cassi,

 I came home to dog mess on my floor and woke up to a dog covered in his own bowel movements. Pickles, I think I’ll start calling him Pickle, was beside himself on handling this happening. Fellow has no idea what a mop looks like or how to mop up a mess. This meant that he waited for me to rouse to clean up a slick of dog fudge in front of the hall washroom.

In the last few days old Gus has on earth he shouldn’t spend them covered in his own excrement. Then, Pickle should be better at looking after his dog. What a way to start a year, hmm, mucking up dog’s mess and dealing with a child in a man’s body.

In any case, I mopped the brown off the floor and cleaned with ammonia to get the stink out then washed up my old Gus as best I could. He was so light I could stick him under one arm and move him and in so bad shape that he sat where I put him for the rest of the day.

I’m going to miss that old dog when he’s gone.

Love those you have, little sister,

Richard Leland Neal

Kitten Poop

20th October 2015

Dear Cassi,



The kittens have had problems with constipation and, once I get them going, diarrhea. I woke yesterday morning to find them covered in excrement and trying to crawl out of their box. I set them in a new box which, quickly became soiled, and got an hour or so more sleep.

As I wakened I fed the kittens, but found I needed to mix more formula and, in thinking, decided I would risk giving the things a wash. Well, the sink was full. A result of my poor sleeping and hard work. I closed my eyes and squared my shoulders. There was nothing for it but to get the dishes done.

I must have set a record for loading and offloading a dishwasher. The mason jars I used to mix cat formula were a priority, and the blender I had used the day before had a few tomato stains. I mixed for the kittens a special formula with a small amount of plain yogurt to help them evacuate. 

I first washed rusty and wrapped him in rayon shammy. The orange felt caught the fleas and trapped them but they ran from the wet feline. His near twin Gizmo followed, and the two waterlogged animals huddled together in my arms until I was satisfied that they were dry.


Stripe and Bob Denver were the nest kittens to get the treatment, and so I washed them and held them repeating what I had done before. Bob was the hardest being as he has the worst of the bowel problems. I wiped his end bits over and over getting more out of him until I was sure he was clear.

With the four kittens huddling together and rather dry I washed Nimbus and Nimh then took to watching videos while keeping the cats warm by holding them.

Pickle came home and nearly fellow over dead when he saw only four kittens in the box, but when he came to tell me I showed him the two still in my arms. I packed all six together and set them on my bed trying to get some more sleep.

They woke me again some hours later with cries for food and kitten farts leaving the pet pad in their box brown again. I set at the feeding and cleaning but once again Pickle had stacked the kitchen table with so much that I could hardly put the pet pad down and the thrashing of kittens knocked it off the table from time to time.

I made it out of the house today just in time to get to work but without my water bottle or work ID. Life kicked me in the teeth and reminded me to stay on top of things. Well, I should know that by now.


Stay strong, little sister,


Richard Leland Neal