About All That Chocolate

A friend asked what caused me to take a deep dive into all that chocolate last Friday. I couldn’t think of a reason.

But today I figured it out.

I ate all that chocolate because I was sad.

About Leda.

So why was I sad about Leda almost three months after she died?

Because it wasn’t obvious that she was permanently gone until my furniture went back to where it was and she wasn’t in the spot where she used to be.

Leda’s bedding was in the space between the wooden filing cabinet and the dresser that holds keys and office supplies. After the water damage, all the living room furniture was pushed to the middle of the room, with all the stuff from every closet piled on top of the sofa.

Leda’s place to sleep (greyhounds sleep 18 hours a day) moved between next to my bed and next to my desk. The defined space where her bed used to be no longer existed.

When the repairs were complete, I tried to find a different way to position the furniture but my condo is small, and I couldn’t find an alternative I liked.

In the space between the filing cabinet and the dresser, I put the big basket that used to hold Leda’s leash and coats but now holds my rain pants and other assorted walking-outside gear.

I moved the two paintings that used to hang above her bed and put a different painting there. I didn’t hang it on the wall, it’s big and I put it on the floor and leaned it against the wall, conscious that I was trying to fill the space where Leda wasn’t.

I wouldn’t have realized that Leda was the reason I ate all that chocolate except my internet went out today. I went to the ‘library’ in our condo building to see if I could upload my planned post (not this one).

The library furniture had been moved for social distancing. I sat at the only table set up for one and was the only person in the room. On the table was a single purple-foil-wrapped Hershey’s dark chocolate kiss.

The chocolate reminded me of last Friday and caused me to ponder and then have the realization.

I miss Leda.

Leda curled up on her bedding


Chewing the Cud of Good

Mulch piled high under an overpass

Thankful for the moist, woodsy smell of fresh mulch, even in a city. Especially in a city.


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