I woke up this morning in a fine mood. We had perfect avocados in the house,(silly thought, I know) and I was looking forward to my refreshing morning coffee followed by some delicious eggs and avocados, followed by an aerobic walk outside on what promised to be a 70-degree, blue-sky start.

Then, two things happened.

After feeding the dog, I let her outside as per our routine and settled onto the couch to watch TV while I sipped my morning brew. An interesting movie sucked me into place, my eyeballs glued to the set. The Assistant, a movie from 2019, with the amazing and ferocious Julia Gardner (think Ozark), grabbed me with its cinematic pacing and sense of doom. I read the guide, noting that it was about an assistant for a movie mogul who discovers morally nefarious on-goings amidst high-stress and degrading duties, where everyone is walking on eggshells amongst a Harvey Weinstein-type guy. We see it all through the eyes of the beleaguered assistant while she balances her options and moral responsibility amongst the powerful, often indifferent, and damaged people around her.

So, I’m sitting there, suddenly edgy yet fascinated, when the dog scratches at the door to come inside. Before letting her in, I saw that she had something in her mouth, and not a stick. I grabbed a flashlight (because it was still a bit dark outside) and slid open the door before stepping out onto the deck where I shone the light onto the big wad of something in my dog’s mouth. She had a baby squirrel clamped in her jaws, the head inside, while the paws of the animal still moved in pathetic motion. My dog backed away from my sudden shouts of ‘No!’ and ran a safe distance away from me then moved her jaws like a raptor, reorganizing the position of the poor creature inside her mouth and doing God knew what kind of torture.

My throat tight, I ran back inside to grab a big dog treat then tried to get her to drop the squirrel, but no deal. My dog chose to go savage and actually turned down food. A deal had been struck. And I, much like the assistant in the movie, was stuck near a closed door listening for what was going on the other side. The squirrel, as well as a naïve young girl, fresh off the plane after being found among craft services in Boise, were both trapped.

What to do. Human resources/dog biscuit failed us both.

My arms crossed, stomach in knots, I watched Julia/assistant put ice and dark protein powder into a blender and stood before it with haunted eyes while it blended into a sickening pulp of brown and red. I started to cry.

It’s hours later now, and the dog finally dropped the pitiful animal because she wanted to come inside. After I locked my dog into her kennel, I put on some gloves and went searching for the baby in the yard and found it. Dead. Weeping over the body, I needed to move it out of reach, but I couldn’t see through my tears and over my racking sobs.

George had an early meeting this morning and had left while the dog still had the squirrel dangling in its mouth. Sadly, for George, I’ll need to wait for him to help me with the last task. I don’t have the strength.

Life is hard. Tragedy and brutality manifests in many forms. How quickly happiness can be stolen too. Not to be flip, but none of this was on my bingo card today. I have choices to make now, forcing the day to become better, or to stay in the sadness. The Assistant portrayed a bleak world. That poor woman was fictional. But not.

Trapped or not. Destroyed or not. Helpless or not.

Damn. Sorry. Writing is my way of coping.

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