Like Triple Sec, Lime and Salt without the Tequila

The last two weeks have passed in slow motion. My days wear on emotionlessly as if a good chunk of my soul is sleeping after taking a month's worth of Ambien. I keep poking a it with a stick, but it refuses to arouse. My Obi is gone. Really, really gone.

Obi was one of my three dogs, but he was the integral ingredient of the canine and feline mix in the Frohriep house. The best way I can explain it is that I use to have the perfect mix for a great margarita and now the tequila is gone.

I need my pets more than most people do. I always have. They're living, breathing antidepressants. Before Obi, I had Keika, the three legged cat who had been my savior since I was twelve. I have always needed a special pet or two in my life. I still have two dogs and a cat, thus the lesser ingredients for the margarita. Bailey and Kissy are pretty good dogs, and they try to fill the void left in my life after we had to put Obi down for progressed bone cancer.

But, as they attempt to fill in the emptiness, I realize that no matter how much I wish and hope, I just can't will triple sec and lime juice to be tequila. As for salt, Lil' Kitty, I don't even try. She'll always be salt, great for adding the final punch, but salt will always be salt.

Someday, I will find more tequila. Sure, it may be a different brand. Maybe Sauza to Obi's Cuervo. For now, I have a pretty sour mixed drink to swallow. But, I still take it in, because like the drunk that needs something to ease the pain, anything is better than nothing. Anything will take away the jitters, at least for the time being.