Love is Insanity

         In the second week after moving to Colorado, tragedy has already stricken. Today I buried my feline friend, Margaret Munchkin Kitty or Greta for short. She wasn't even two years old, but Mother Nature always has her way. I'm not new to this, to losing a pet, a companion. There was my dog, Bella, my cat's, Hattie, Tenny, and Astrid, and my fish, Doug and Sebastian. Every time I'm faced with the chance of a new pet, I always ask myself the same question. “Why are you getting another pet, they always seem to die.” And every time I bury them, I ask myself, “Why did you get another pet, you knew this would happen.” I don't know why I do this to myself. Why do I constantly put my heart out there? Why do I love when I know I'll just get hurt again? It's the definition of insanity. I do the same thing over and over expecting different results. So maybe love is insanity. Here we are, humans going about our lives, loving and losing and being insane. That's what humans do. That's what humans are. Why? I've come to the conclusion that, at least for me, it's having something to love, to care for, to rely on you. And I keep doing it, hoping that maybe, just maybe, one of them will live past two.

        As I watched my dad dig a hole in the dark, rich soil of Colorado, I thought to myself, I'm a pro at this. It shouldn't bother me anymore. Why do I still fight back tears? Why am I so human?Why do I keep loving? I recalled an episode of BBC Sherlock that I'd seen. I remembered a quote which Sherlock's brother, Mycroft, said to him.

       “All lives end. All hearts are broken. Caring is not an advantage, Sherlock.”

       Maybe not. And maybe I tried not to care, not to feel. Maybe I stroked Greta's face and tried not to cry. But I did. Not a lot, but I cried. I don't know why. Maybe a feeling of yet another defeat. Another of my loves not living past two. What am doing wrong? I didn't make her ill. I cared for her as best as I knew how. None of my pets have died because of something I did. I mean, maybe if I had trained Bella, she wouldn't have gotten in the neighbors trash, and been shot. But I didn't shoot her. I didn't neglect any of my animals. Sure, maybe I should have cleaned out Sebastian's tank more often. Maybe I should have put a water heater in there for him. Regardless of what I did or didn't do, I keep trying. I keep loving. For those kisses, for those cuddles, for the excitement at feeding time. For the look of love and never hate or malice, I keep loving. I suppose, maybe it's worth it. To have loved and lost, rather than never loved at all. I'm so thankful for the time I had with Greta, and I'm going to miss her with my whole heart. Those big green eyes were worth every tear.

      Maybe I'm insane. But so is life.