Missing birds, homeless dogs and childhood friends

Good day to all of you good people. I woke up today a little sad and a little in my feelings. That is totally okay; everyday cannot be smiles and rainbows. I hope it is okay with you, but I wanna talk about some of the things that are making me sad today.

First off, the birds in my backyard are gone. Just about every morning I wake up, take the dogs outside and chill for a few minutes on my back porch. My backyard is my happy place, usually. But a few weeks ago, I noticed that all of our doves, cardinals and various other wild birds have just disappeared.

Our backyard is usually so alive with bird activity. We have bird feeders that stay full and bird baths that we keep clean and full of fresh water.

We have two hanging baskets that are usually occupied by a nest of doves. Last year, the mama birds raised four clutches of babies in each nest. This year only one set before they all disappeared. Not having all of this avian activity in my sanctuary has really made me sad.

I think I have figured out where they have gone. Yesterday, circling above our yard was a young hawk. I think that asshole has made my birds feel unsafe here, and they have moved on. Why can’t that hawk run those jerk-ass squirrels away?

Another thing weighing heavy on my heart is the abundance of dogs in the shelters right now. We were contacted this week by Tri-City Animal Shelter, asking if we could post and promote their flyer to get the word out that their shelter is at capacity. Apparently, a lot of people have gone back to work and now don’t have time for the dogs they adopted during quarantine.

If you can, think about fostering or adopting a pup. I’m not trying to be all Sarah McLachlan on you, but if it eases my guilt over not being able to foster a dog right now, so be it. I have five little jerks running my life right now; three of them started out as foster kids, but I suck at fostering. We get attached very easily.

Maybe my problem is more guilt than sadness. I guess the guilt I feel over a few things in my life right now is fueling my melancholia. (I sound as dramatic as Victorian era heroine.)

I feel a lot of guilt for walking away from friendships and relationships that are toxic. Maybe it’s not guilt, but it definitely has me feeling some kind of way.

One is an old friendship that I just had to end. Thanks to Facebook, you can’t just let old friendships fade into oblivion like you used to. Now you have to put a period at the end of that friendship, so they know it is over.

Other relationships are not as easy to walk away from. Although these relationships are toxic, you have to maintain some kind of relationship for the benefit of the people you do care about. This almost always involves family, otherwise I would knock the hinges off the door by slamming it so hard.

Recently I have been thinking a lot about the people I was close to when I was young. I don’t think anything hurts as much as realizing that someone who meant the world to you barely even cared for you. It took me years to actually learn that.

My best friends growing up were a set of twins. I thought that we would be best friends forever. Their family took me in as one of their own, and I stayed at their house at least three or four nights a week. They were like brothers to me. They were totally cool with me being gay when they found out our senior year.

Then, as is the natural progression in life, we grew apart as our lives and paths changed. I thought we would at least stay in touch and talk every once in a while — but no. I tried to keep in touch, and I remain in contact with their mom and brother. But the twins just wrote me out of their lives.

They went into the military, then to college and got married and had kids; I went to art school and started doing drag. I guess my life was too weird for them to want to be a part of it.

The last time I actually saw them was at their younger brother’s funeral. It was such a sad day made sadder to me when my one-time best friend introduced me to his son with, “You know your friend Jason that sleeps on our couch a lot? He was our Jason.”

It was his brother’s funeral, and I shouldn’t make it about me. But I think about that so much — no interest in catching up or reconnecting at all.

The only reason this has been on my mind so much lately is because I keep having dreams about them. It’s like part memory and part wishful thinking. The dreams are almost a “what if” kind of thing where we stayed close and supportive of each other throughout our adult lives. Then when I wake up, I’m sad.

I fucking hate dreaming about them.

Then last Wednesday, their sister-in-law — the wife of their older brother that I still talk to — texted me because one of the twins’ 16-year-old daughter wanted to meet me. She is apparently a huge fan of Drag Race and all things drag. I told her next time she is in town I would take us to a drag brunch. So I guess that is something.

It is totally okay to feel your feelings and be sad, but it is not a place I want to dwell in for too long. I have so much to be happy about, but somedays I just feel like I want to cry — and that is okay! Ain’t no shame in my tear game.

Remember to always love more, bitch less and cry if you want to. XOXO, Cassie Nova