wounded soldiers

I’m still not sure about that poor toad I stepped on and crushed out on the outside patio late one night after my mother was gone. I was being asked to put down her cat and I didn’t want to. She wasn’t that old. But I did realize she was very sick but it happened in such a roundabout way that I felt guilty and responsible, I betrayed her. It was awful.

But earlier I had her over here with my son’s cats and it was so delightful to see her interact with them. They were fascinated with her. She was from the other side (of the house) where things were so different.

but the vet said she had to go. To start with, for instance, she would need a blood transfusion. I don’t want to talk about the rest.

as for the toad, I probably should have thrown hin into the bushes but I didn’t want to touch him. I dont remember whether I saw him after that, I was assuming he was still living. But later, in the hospital I went to shortly afterwards, I learned about taking wounded soldiers in a worthy cause. I had started to change. Now, recently, the concept of “Radical Acceptance” finally struck home.

and the toad came back to me to let me know it was okay.

Catholics have a principle of just war which “holy fools” defy.

here he is: I was afraid I had lost the drawing!