This year has brought several unwanted "firsts" into my life. It has broken the record of the number of childhood pets I've ever had to bury in a year. It was the first time I've had a coworker die. Now it's crossing another one, as today will be the first time I've ever had to bury two dogs in a singe day.

Admittedly, both of these dogs were very old. Neither actually lived with me anymore. One belonged to my parents, though she had been my childhood buddy from upper elementary to when I left for college. Polly was a dachshund. She was more than a little neurotic and paranoid, but she was a sweet creature that slept in my bed every night when I was growing up. She died at the age of 17, relatively painlessly. This morning I had to help my father bury her in the backyard. I will miss her very much.

Shortly I will have to go and help my aunt bury her dog, which died of heart problems this afternoon. Yet another old dog, she lived to be 18. I don't have as much connection here, but there's still nothing fun about putting someone's pet under the ground.

I buried one dog this morning. I'll bury another one within an hour. While death is an inevitable consequence of life and entropy, multiple instances in a single day seems excessive. This is a first I could have done without.

I also feel rather guilty that even though I morn the passing of Polly and feel sorry for my aunt, I'm still mostly thinking about which wireless capable DVD player to buy. That is an exceptionally shallow thing to be considering right now, but there it is. In the end consumerist self-involvement is too strong a force for even grief to fully strike down.