Little Red Aftermath

My depression regarding Little Red's death is deepening.

I fully feel the tragedy that Robert called this earth the lowest of hells.  The story of how PETA, ASFPCTA, the Madison County Sheriff and the courts destroyed Caboodles just reinforces it.  I have see that legalized crime used against so many rescuers, accused of animal neglect or cruelty, having all the animals impounded, the owner sent to jail, and half the animals killed in the shelters for minor diseases, or being too old, and they call it a rescue.  Then they charge the former own hundreds of thousands of dollars for providing "care" for the animals they abducted.

My depression has changed.  I cannot function.  I can barely move.  But my mind and body feel clear.  My consciousness is empty and light.  The heaviness of three days ago is gone, but that heaviness, in a way, was so comforting, like a gentle blanket comforting a broken heart.

Now that heart is exposed to the light of finality of Red's non-being, of all the Caboodles cats dying and the desperate loneliness, and anger Craig must feel about his loss.

Yes, I also feel a gentle anger, both at "What Is" for taking that most gentle soul, Red from me, and taking him away into the dissolution of the Void.  He was such a gentle soul, and Lakshmi's constant attendant.

What I feel is like a a dry gentle wind blowing through my heart, causing it to shrivel a little before its dryness, but also filling my larger sense of presence with a restiness, a need to stop and lie still, thinking not of what to do today, dropping all chores to be done, and just settle into the grief.

How is it felt?  Like a great aloneness spread throughout my body and the surrounding presence you might say of my soul.  A waiting for a permeating deadness to move off or up in one way of another.  A waiting for Little Red's death to pass through me, and to let go of him and his presence.