I just saw that this is my 100th post, the 100th day of the 1,000 days. I'm very happy that I've kept it up but can't help but feel a little sad as I'm 10% into a very optimistic estimate of how much time I have left with these guys.
I started this as an outlet to write about them after their successive health scares, knowing that they are in the twilight of their lives. It's overwhelming to me at times and I thought writing this, even though no one in the world is really reading it, would be helpful.
A few weeks into this, the energy shifted from writing to capturing the best picture I could of them. To share these on a more modern platform, many weeks in I started posting the best of these to an Instagram feed that still numbers only a dozen or so followers. Which is a dozen more people who read this.
Maybe I'm just too busy to write about them at length. Maybe I somehow decided that the pictures deserved the most care and were going to be the most durable and enjoyable ways to celebrate and remember them, for me or anyone else. Maybe I felt what I had to say would soon be redundant or boring, while these pictures could never be, at least to me. Maybe I didn't want to pick at the deep and sad feelings I have when I contemplate losing them.
It was also a conscious decision at the beginning to limit my text to just these guys, not to make this some sort of loose diary and talk about my life. But that restriction has proven to be difficult. These guys, in many ways, are my life. Or at least no one in the world is more important to me than they are. Which is beautiful and sad for so many reasons I'm afraid to list them here.
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