He taught me that some people are assholes accidentally.  My name is Jim DiMaggio, he said, and set his coffee cup aside to pace in front of the class. I was a quiet kid sitting up front and smiled as he glanced from face to face.  Bending down to speak to me, he said, I am not related to Joe DiMaggio, and I bet you don't even know who that is. Why would he think that? Does he think girls don't know about baseball? But I told him what he expected to hear. No. He also taught me the phrase, It is better to have it and not need it, than to need it and not have it. That never left my head. I am worlds away from that first day of seventh grade, but I still believe it's better to have what you need, than to find yourself in the rain without a spare tire… ------------ But some things are just impossible. Lily has bone cancer. She is slowing down. Out again in the woods today in an early spring snow, I put a hand up against the suddenly bright sky. It's sunning on our snow, Lily! Nearly six inches fell, but it deflated like cotton candy, becoming nothing under our feet. ------------- She hops along, keeping the weight off of her right rear leg. And after five months, she is getting tired. More limping. Slower to stand up. But happy, happy, happy.  I don't think Mr DiMaggio has a solution for this. One day I'll have to take Lily to the vet. A quick needle, and I am going to have to watch the lights go out of her eyes.  She doesn't know anything about death. Dogs hurt, but I don't think they sit around pondering the eternal unknown after life fades. ----------- I read back through this blog, hoping to find things I have already written about death. Maybe the dead never leave. They are still here, in a way. Hershey has been gone for two years. We were out for a coffee one Saturday when I asked, Remember how much she loved the river?  She was the best dog ever, he said. Don't talk about this, I can't talk about this. I thought I was fine, then I choked on my next sip and sat waiting for my eyes to stop leaking. My grandmother is in my head all the time. My ex boyfriend's name comes up at least once a week. I wonder how much of our thoughts are really our own.  Today the daffodils were ready to scream out in yellow, until snow fell. As I returned home tonight I told the little green bunch, Tomorrow. Bloom. Good girl, Lily. I'll love you as much as I can. You would have already been gone eight years ago when I found you sick in the woods. It is better to have had you, than to have never known.