Last February Dolly broke her leg. It was dark. She left the house and sped off…somewhere. There was one of those heart-piercing yips and suddenly…she was back with a broken leg.
I’m sure she didn’t see it coming, she was just doing what she loves to do and either fell in a hole or slipped on some ice and suddenly life was different and not fun.
This has been indicative of 2025, really. I’m not usually glad to see the back of the old year, but this year can take its ball and go home.
In May I lost my job. I didn’t really see it coming. And suddenly life was different. I didn’t break my leg, but something got broken. My confidence…my self-esteem…my mojo? It was a psychic rather than physical hurt, but, like Dolly’s leg, it needed repair.
Repair was just as expensive as Dolly’s leg. She went to the Most Expensive Vet and needed a plate and some screws. I needed to continue to give Max the lifestyle to which he is accustomed. And also some psychic hurts can only be repaired by a lil’ treat. Or several. Chocolate ones.
When Dolly broke her leg we sprang into action. Barb called around for the scoop about emergency vets. Ray fashioned a splint out of the Penny Saver (it didn’t work but the Boy Scout effort was appreciated). I offered water. Nick held the dog. And then of course the staff at the vet’s office gave lots of love, and all Dolly’s people made sure she was ok.
When I got fired, Barb—and my parents–listened and didn’t freak out. Even when I told my parents at the same time that I got a tattoo so they could be disappointed about everything all at once. Nick gave support complete with suggestions of rude gestures to employ. Ray brought a donut. It was very appreciated. My people—friends, family and co-workers alike–reminded me of my worth. This year I truly knew, in my heart, that people really do like me. What a gift.
I have to be grateful for whatever it is in me that deserves this support. I’m assuming there would be a general lack of support for a shitty loser who got fired, so I also assume I have redeeming qualities. Dolly came home from the hospital with a tag on her collar that said “friendly.” I’m grateful for all my people that can still see my inner “friendly” tag.
At the end of the year Dolly and I are mostly repaired. Dolly’s leg bothers her when it’s cold out, or she overdoes it. I’m in a better place now, but depending on the day I still feel the grieving feels.
Dolly and I are leaving 2025 scarred and changed, but we’re standing, albeit limping. Here’s to a stronger 2026.
This year, I set myself a challenge to read a banned book per month. Here’s what I read:
January—The Handmaid’s Tale—Margaret Atwood
February—The Hate U Give—Angie Thomas
March—Becoming Nicole—Amy Ellis Nutt
April—Small Great Things—Jodi Picoult
May—The Perks of Being a Wallflower—Stephen Chbosky
June—Me, Earl and the Dying Girl—Jesse Andrews
July—The Bluest Eye—Toni Morrison
August—Fahrenheit 451—Ray Bradbury
September—A Brave New World—Aldous Huxley
October—Skeleton Crew—Stephen King
November—Huckleberry Finn—Mark Twain
December—The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy—Douglas Adams
The Hate U Give was my favorite—absolutely blew me away. It should really be required reading. I didn’t finish Huckleberry Finn. I think it’s one of those things that appeals mostly to dudes, like The Three Stooges.
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