the Dalaverse

So. I get home from seeing "Garden State" (which was fantastic, and I would have loved it just for the "The Only Living Boy in New York" scene even if it hadn't been. And for Natalie Portman, whom I am allowed to like between Star Wars movies). And my mother's on the phone, just got back from work, talking very seriously. And we have a good number of unstable people in the family at any given time, and I immediately thought that something bad had happened. That's never, ever a good thought. Turns out it was Mrs. H calling because they'd had Rocky put to sleep this morning.

Mrs. H is Jessie's mother. They live a couple of blocks down the street from us and I've known the whole family since first grade when Jessie and I met in Brownies. Rocky was their boxer. He'd been having seizures for a few months, apparently caused by a brain tumor. I don't know any more details. He was...about eight years old, I think. I know they got him in sixth grade. I remember Jessica talking about how they were checking out breeders and being absolutely miserable because I'd wanted a dog of my own for years. And I remember that the day they brought him home, Jess, Mrs. H, and Ryan walked him down to our house. He was the damned cutest little pup ever. He had a docked tail, a little stump that would wiggle along with his whole butt. And giant black eyes that were either really happy or incredibly sad, and a white spot on his nose, and long silky ears. Jess and I used to take him for walks and try to teach him to heel (it never really worked). Once in awhile she'd bring him to the barn, but he was too excited around the horses and would've gotten himself kicked eventually. He was desperately affectionate and he'd whine and bat you with one paw if you tried to ignore him.

He was a good dog. And I miss my cat. And it'll have been exactly a year, on the 27th, and I still don't want to talk about it. I've only just recently been able to talk about Silver without crying, and it wasn't as if she died.

Going to go take my dog for a walk now. And then lie down, because my throat hurts and I have a headache and I think I'm coming down with some weird summer bug. If I write anything, it'll be sad. Also inspired by Lin's sunset pictures.

I ate the last of the Breyers vanilla fudge twirl ice cream (god that's good shit ::salivates::) earlier today, so I wrote this instead. That should give you some idea about what kind of fic it is. Will/Elizabeth, PG, mention of character death. Is dedicated to the school tree and the hammock in Steph's old backyard, and to the swing back behind Jessie's house. Inspired by those childhood haunts, linaelyn's pictures of the Puerto Rico sunsets, Simon & Garfunkel, and "Garden State."


( Bookends )