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Today marks two years to the day since a doctor called me and said the dreaded "C" word. The next three weeks were quite the surreal roller coaster ride as my life got turned inside out, upside down, and more. I decided to go out in the heat today and prune some trees by the barn, since I rather dislike being raked by thorns when I am on the riding mower. As I was lopping merrily away, I heard a strange groaning noise and looked over my shoulder. A raccoon was lying about twenty feet away, breathing very hard and making "errrrh, errrrh, errrh" noises. I went back to the house, cleaned off the old .410 which I have not shot in 25 years or more, and went back out to the raccoon to put it out of its misery. It must have been poisoned. I shot it and didn't bear it any ill will since I know it has been plundering my peach and pear trees. What a strange irony today, when I was going out to do things to feel alive in spite of this cancer, and I ended up having to kill something.
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