Cracks In The Pavement...

Update

I wrote this when I arrived home from the park. I needed to write in order to get it out of my heart. I didn't post because I refused to impose it on any of you.

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I didn't do ANYTHING I was supposed to today. NOTHING. Instead I sat on the sofa, looked at the beautiful garden, then, in absolute agony, placed my head on the pillow and fell asleep. I never do anything like that. Never. I woke with wet tears still on my face. Then Cece called. I started to cry. She asked what was wrong, but I wouldn't tell her. She asked again and I said it was so awful I didn't think she'd want to hear. She said "I do, talk to me." And with those gentle words, a dear friend allowed me to find my voice.

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If you are weak of heart, please do not read this post. I beg you, don't. This is about animal cruelty and it is so unkind. I asked Cece if I should post. She said, yes because we have amazing friends who are so wise and kind and who always, always offer intelligent advice. So with no futher adieu, I offer my post in absolute agony and tears because I'm not sure I'm doing the right thing. If you have any suggestions, any at all, please don't hesitate to comment. I'm open to all suggestions. You know me. You know my heart. I would never impose this on you if I didn't think you could help.

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This isn't a good photo because the colors are misleading, but it was the best I could do the other morning with the light I had. I woke for the first time on the Macy's sofa in my studio. I opened my eyes looking up at this. At first I didn't know where I was, then realized. It's a large painting, a little over 3' by a little over 5', and looking up at it gave me a new perspective. I didn't move. I just keep looking. And thinking about life, how it changes, how it hurts so much at times and so joyful others. How perspective changes. How... Then "Baby"ran full throttle into the office and jumped from almost the doorway to my chest. "AHHHHHHHHHHHH!" I yelled. And the day began.

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I've been terribly ill the past few days (so Cece, that's why I haven't returned your calls), and today woke with T-Bone dancing all around at 4 am to say "MOMMY, I HAVE TO PEE!" After dealing with "our" skunk and T-Bone I made some coffee and started my day. What else was I supposed to do? I read for awhile then wrote to RC about what I'd read! I raced around like a mad woman after that to get everything done to make it to the park on time. I was in a terrific mood. Happy to be alive. It was an absolutely beautiful, beautiful morning and when I arrived at the park a homeless guy I call a "friend" greeted me as always. I have wonderful homeless friends at the park and they always look out for me. I trust and respect them. I fed one feral near my car and the birds who wait, then walked to my other ferals in the wood after stopping to talk to my friend for a few minutes. After seeing my kitties and skunk, feeding more birds and enjoying the morning I returned to the car. Before leaving I walked over to my friend to say goodbye and asked if he'd seen "Candy." He said he had, "Yesterday." I said, "Well when you see her again, please let her know I'm thinking about her. I'm always concerned, you know."

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***WARNING. THE REST OF THIS POST MAY BE DIFFICULT FOR MANY. DON'T READ ANY FURTHER IF YOU DON'T WANT. TRUST ME, I RESPECT THAT DECISION MORE THAN YOU REALIZE.***
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My friend said "Don't EVER give a kitty to Candy or her friends because they abuse them." I thought I knew what he meant, but ask him to clarify. He did and I felt my heart literally break. Not for her, for animals who suffer at the hands of humans. He gave me the details although I didn't ask for THAT much detail. I thought "DO I HAVE A "TELL ME" SIGN TATOOED TO MY FUCKING FOREHEAD." I felt like I was going to die. I'm not kidding. I don't care about being lied to or betrayed by someone, I care about the welfare of animals. Yes, I know it happens. Yes, I know there are assholes in the world, but I've always believed I don't know any.
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I have help Candy countless times. Once in the pouring rain and freezing cold when the Park Rangers had taken her tent and all the contents within. She was cold, wet and had her darling dog. Nothing else. She and Buddy had spent the night under a tarp and hadn't eaten. They were cold and hungry. I went immediately to WalMart and spent almost $200 I didn't even have to replace all her stuff, so she and Buddy would be okay and bought food for both. To hear what I heard nearly killed me. All of you who know me and have read this far are aware I'm hyper sensitive, so I was beyond angry and agony. I asked my friend why he would tell me "all this?" He said "Because Suzanne, you're so trusting and kind and you think everyone deserves respect, but I'm telling you right now, they don't. Some would slit your throat. There are so many homeless here who abuse cats and dogs. Why do you think so many have dogs?" I started to cry and looked at the pavement. All I could see were all the cracks. What once had been perfect asphalt was now all cracked and broken and I realized it was a metaphor. I'm cracked and broken. I could go through 10 divorces and never feel this much pain because a marriage I can fix, or leave behind, but this, I don't know how. As I drove away I realized life is actually about cracks in the pavement. Every painful experience is a crack that just wears you away. When I was out of the park and over the bridge and thought I was alone, I rolled up the windows and screamed at the top of my lungs as I drove slowly into a stop light, "I HATE THIS FUCKING LIFE." I've only done that twice in my life. A guy on a bench waiting for the bus looked at me so odd, as if he'd heard. How odd. I looked up and realized my freakin' sunroof was open! I smiled and gave him the thumbs up. He smiled and gave it back. Then I had to sit and wait for the light to change while I'm sure he wondered what was wrong. I wouldn't look at him. I felt terribly embarrassed.
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I had to run errands. I went to WalMart and wouldn't look up. Not once. I was consumed with anger and pain and constantly on the verge of tears and didn't want to impose on anyone's happiness. I didn't smile until leaving WalMart. I was at a stop sign in front of Hooters and at In-N-Out-Burger and there was a young black woman with a baby and small child. No one would stop to let them go through the crosswalk. I did. The mom mouthed "Thank you!" Her little girl walked in front of my car and as she did gave me the biggest wave. I laughed so hard and waved so big. It was absolutely beyond precious. For every low there is a high. Honestly.
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I drove back to Carmichael (how wierd, almost wrote Berkeley) and have struggled. On the freeway, at Target, in the driveway, etc. I drove down our street, saw our beautifully manicured lawn, our gorgeous trees, our lovely home and all the lovely homes around ours and felt such joy. I wondered "Why me?" as I looked out over my Mercedes. Why me? I pulled into the driveway, buried my head in the wheel and then I sobbed. Really, really sobbed. Not because of all I have, but because with all I have I feel helpless. So I came here to try to make sense of this. I thought if I wrote about it I 'd be able to find my way. I've concluded, I'm unable. I don't know what to do and I don't know where to go. Just like looking up at my painting one sleepy morning, my perspective has changed.
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It's funny because a dear friend recently sent a beautiful email I cherish. In it he/she referred to my "demons." I had to laugh because I don't have any. I remember telling my wonderful Beverely Hills psychologist the same thing and warning him the sessions might be "really boring" (I was just in absolute physical PAIN!). I don't have demons. Trust me, I'd know! I had a very simple life growing up, argued with my parents as a teen...you know smoked a bit of pot, drank a bit. All stupid stuff, but nothing like a demon. But every day life hurts my soul. Honestly, it does. Obviously this does.
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I often wonder why I'm here. And for the first time today I know. I walked into the house to all the ferals I've rescued at the park. Everyone is usually insane upon my arrival, but today the entire household was so quiet and peaceful. They all knew. Somehow, everyone knew Mom was in absolute agony and they were so respectful. I went to each and every one and thanked them for being in my life.
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I love people who adore animals. Who never abuse or mistreat them.
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XO
Me
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P.S. I'll answer the comments in the previous post. Promise.

P.P.S. Anyone who comments here I cherish because I know you've traveled this far. I'm forever grateful. I'm meeting a homeless friend tomorrow morning I've know for almost 2 years. I'm going to ask him straight up if dogs and kitties are abused. He'll tell me the truth. If it's yes, I'll wreak hell upon that place. Trust me.