We met the woman who rescued Francis Bacon today, and through conversation discovered that she did not, in fact, love him so much that she had to keep him (as we were told), but instead gave him away to another Natchitoches family. It was implied that we are unfit parents because Lunchbox died at such an early age.
And yesterday, we went to the pound to adopt a dog who was about to be put to sleep, where I was questioned about how Lunchbox died, and given the crazy eye when I didn't list "old age" as the answer. They were unmoving on their fenced-in yard required policy as well, althoughI assured them I would never be leaving the dog ANYWHERE by itself, fenced-in backyard or not.
Have I not beat myself up enough about losing my child? I am well aware of my mistakes, but I was not prepared for two seperate, complete strangers to decide I'm not a fit mother. I would be infuriated, but I'm emotionally exhausted. All I want is a little pig in my bed again at night. This has been the longest goddamn day of my life.
Thank you all for your beautiful posts and your little piglets grinning at me from my friends list every day. I'm lucky to know them, and I'm lucky to have you all.