Man bites back.

I love seasons, and by that I mean I love fall.

It seems to be the perfect season for sensory overload. There are so many colors it looks like someone spilled a box of crayons - and not just the box of 8 or even 16 - the box of 120. There are the smells and tastes of so many foods - pumpkin pie, apple cider, halloween candy. Not to mention that the perfect item of clothing to suit this season just happens to be my favorite to wear: the sweater.

I even like to feel the melancholy that comes on a cloudy wet fall day. The colors are darker, and the days are darker. The heavy scent decay destroyed by fire fills the air.

So many opposite extremes - the warm sun and the cold air, the healthy grass and the dying leaves, wet ground and dry wool socks, a cold face and a neck kept warm by a scarf.

Life is so fucking fragile.

I guess I was naive, innocent. I'd never watched an animal struggle so hard for breath before. I'd never watched the light go out of an animal's eyes. Stupid, dumb lab just wanted to be by me. Just wanted to run with me. Stupid dumb lab kept licking and wagging its tail even though it was dying.

Death came out of nowhere. Death came in the form of a nice family driving a truck back from a nice family vacation. In the form of a man who cried because he saw what he'd done. Why couldn't death have come in the form of a mean person who didn't care and just drove off so that I could be mad at him instead of being mad at me? Why did he have to be the one who comforted the dog while I just stared?