Can of Worms

I just heard a story of the death of a man's grandfather here in alamosa. His grandfather had been drinking and froze to death because he did not have enough sense to get himself indoors. They could not find him for two weeks and when they did find him, they had to cut him out of the ice. It took a month for him to thaw before burial. His skin was black and they had to tear off his clothes, because they were all frozen to his body.

One of the six dogs staying in the shelter yard (their owners are guests) died this week. It jumped over the fence while still tied to its chain, hanging itself. And then it froze. Poor John had to take him down and bury him.

There is an old drunk man who I should throw out of the shelter. I have been assigned to his case for three or four weeks now, I don't even know how long but I cannot throw him out, though he abuses the rules and doesn't shower and sometimes even pees on himself. Because he has no place to go and I am afraid that if I make him leave he will die.

This is my testament to screwed up things and I am learning to mourn them. I live in gray.