2001, 2002?

I live such a solitary life - I guess I'm just trying to leave something behind so that someone might know a little about me. There is just so much inside of me that no one knows about. And some things I'm never going to tell. Ever.
With no wife, kids or parents - after having lost my brother and three of my best friends - who am I going to say these things to? I just want someone to know that I existed. That I had dreams and fears and opinions and beliefs. That I was (am) a person shaped by life and death.
Living alone is not as hard for me as it would be for other people. It's peaceful, although sometimes boring. But peaceful, non-the-less. And I have no phone, so no one disturbs me.
I'm not likely to have a phone, either. I owe the phone company a fortune. You see, my doctor was experimenting with different combinations of drugs for me. I felt like I was losing my mind. I was out of control crazy and I made a bunch of long distance calls. I couldn't stop.
I had insurance then. When you're covered, your doctor will give you all kinds of tests and load you up on all kinds of pills. I really think something bad is going on there. I found out later that I was on some really strong stuff.
Don't get me started with the doctors and the drug companies. Social medicine now! Poor people suffer and die because they can't afford medical treatment. And this is the richest nation in the world! A GOVERNMENT'S FIRST CONCERN SHOULD BE THE HEALTH CARE OF ITS CITIZENS!

I started off talking about living alone. I kinda got off track there. There are ups and downs to solitary living. Things are calm and peaceful. That's good. But, sometimes I get a little lonely. There seems to be someone for everyone these days, but me.
I know that my life style is off-putting to a lot of people. They don't understand it - me. I think I give off a vibe of not wanting or needing anyone. Part of that is intentional. I don't feel very good about myself physically now. I've gained about 75 lbs. over the last 10 years. That's really embarrassing. I'm having a difficult time trying to lose it. The older you get, the harder it is.
Which leads me to a point I've been trying to get to all along. When you live alone for a long period of time, you start to turn into some kind of animal. I know human interaction is important, but Jesus! it's difficult.
Sometimes being in an intimate relationship can make you miserable. I may not have anyone, except (my dog) Pooky - the best relationship I've ever maintained - but I'm not miserable.
Speaking of Pooky, our relationship is pretty smooth. Nobody knows how close we are. I tell her all of the time that she's the best dog in the world and that I love her more than anything. And it's true. She's been a great comfort to me.
I found a page in a note book where I had written down some of Pooky's nick-names for some reason. At the top of the page, it says: "A noble and wonderful creature. The best dog in the world. I love her like a child."
Then: Pooky, Pook, Snoodle Boodle, Sweety Snookum Doodle, Princess Pookinza, H.R. Pookinstuff, Stuffina, 'Stuff, Stuffin', Pookily Dookily, Pookster, Pook-a-tollah, Pookinator, The Perfect and Precious Princess H.R. Pookinstuffedcrustpizzalicious and Snood (short for Snoodle Boodle, of course).
I'm sure there are more names (or will be).
Then, at the bottom of the page , it says: "Aug. 10, 2000. 10:15 pm. The power came back on."
OK, so I've gotten a little silly and sentimental in my old age. I don't much care. It's one of the nice things about getting older.

Dec. 9, 2001. Sunday. 5 pm.
Pooky is gone.
She's been gone for about a month now. I let her out one morning and I never saw her again. I'm having a very hard time living without her. I miss her so much. It's pretty lonely in this old house without that little dog.
Not knowing what happened to her is awful. The mind conjures up horrible images. I really can't say anything else now.