I fucking well hope so.
George is dead. Mum rang to say he was going downhill fast, and a few hours later Mark turned up unexpectedly at the office – he didn’t want to have to tell me over the phone.
To anyone that didn’t know my grandfather, you missed out on knowing an amazing man. I’ll be writing a short peice to read at the funeral on friday, so more of that later.
Rhubarb my beautiful little rexy ratty rabbit has a tumour. It’s “only” a Mast Cell Tumour, which are common and usually benign in cats and dogs, but very rare in rabbits. The only rabbit I have ever known to have one was Fuzz Bucket, and it turned out to be a symptom of another form of cancer, that eventually killed her. So I am trying to be optimistic, but circumstances are mounting against me.
And now the coalition hold the balance of power in the senate. They don’t even need Family First to push through their appalling right wing policies.
One month has delivered another three years of fascist government, two dead grandparents, and a rabbit with cancer. Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck