Katrina comes through the door with dog food and a cheery disposition.  After a half hour of talk, she lets the dog into the house and wipes her wet paws.  Outside, the rain descends on Brookside and the storm clouds cover the stars.

In an hour, my dog has been fed, my dishes have been done, and a load of laundry spins in the little upstairs unit.  We’ve discovered the dog’s deafness keeps her from being afraid of thunder.  I have a few difficult moments, some physical, some emotional.  But it’s a good visit.

That I reinjured my back this morning seems a small thing at day’s end.  Another court appearance has to be canceled.  I probably won’t be in the office until Thursday.  I didn’t get to vote.  But I got a visit from Katrina whom I hadn’t seen in too many days.  That counts for a lot.  I’d almost hurt myself again just to lure her back.

Almost.  But not quite.

The little dog sleeps on the floor in front of me.  I’ve had text messages from lots of folks who’ve read my blogs and know that I’m ailing.  Miranda came with groceries.  Well-wishers posted on Facebook.

The thunder rumbles and the birds twitter as they settle down for the evening.  Here in the house, the dog and I will do the same.  I dry my tears.  I swallow another muscle relaxant and scroll through my e-mail.  One or two work-related messages require my response but otherwise, nothing important has happened since the close of the business day.  I take my time.  I’m not going anywhere.

It’s the fourth day of the fortieth month of My Year Without Complaining.  Life continues.