It is hard to find the words when you wake to hear of not one, but two, senseless acts of random murder. Pearl Bailey and I are usually the first to wake on Sunday morning. This morning was no different. We descended the stairs at the same time, and as I stumbled to make coffee, Pearl Bailey took to her outside domain to do her business.
Once each task had been completed, we both settled on the sofa as I switched on the morning news. I somberly absorbed the account of two different cities under siege from the rampage by white nationals, my hand placed over my mouth most of the time while listening.
As I spoke out loud to the TV in anguish and disgust, I noticed Pearl Bailey listening intently. Her eyes were transfixed on the screen. She was definitely picking up vibrations from my shivers. It was a special moment that we shared. And, I am glad she was the spirit with me in that very sobering hour.