Despite the fact that I'm glad the holidays are over, I really can't stand Januaries. Here's a brief list of reasons why:

1987: I was 12, my dog, who was 13 at the time, whom I grew up with, had to be put down. She had cancer in her hips and back legs. They were so swollen, and she couldn't even walk. We had to wait with her all day until dad came home and could take her to the vet for the shot.

1992: Our parrot, who was born the same year I was (he was an indian ring necked parakeet. Fairly uncommon, very pretty) went nuts then dropped dead right in the cage, all in the span of about 5 seconds. He never showed any signs of illness prior to that.

1994: Mom slips on a patch of black ice, dislocates her shoulder. She's out of work for 5 months, and her disability didn't kick in for about 3 months. We almost lost everything.

1995: (the big one). My father, suffering from diabetes, gout, angina and depression, has the flu. I get home from work (I worked nights) and was walking him back to his bedroom. Just as he steps inside, he collapses right in front of me (I was able to hinder his descent, but not actually catch him). I call 911 and can only watch as his skin turns silver and he dies right in front of me from congestive heart failure.

1997: One of my cat's, Shadoe (we found three kittens in 1991, abandoned at less than a week. We had to take them because they were too *young* for the animal shelter to accept them. One of the kittens had died right in my arms, but that wasn't a january event) gets what we thought was a yeast infection. Turns out it was a pyometra (infected uterus) that is ALWAYS fatal if untreated. Fortunately, I was early on my taxes and got my return in time to pay for half of the 900+ dollar emergency surgery. My friend leant me the rest of the money.

2005: I am watching my other cat, Kitt, slowly dying of FIP (feline infectious peritonitis). She can barely breathe, and we can't afford to put her down (it costs friggin' 300 bucks!) It's doubtful she'll live out the month.