Yesterday Fred's cat Sparkie died. He got her as a kitten before he started high school, and she was a lovely, sweet, talkative girl who loved to sit on laps and beg for chicken at the dinner table. She was somewhere between fifteen and seventeen years old and had been going downhill since Christmas, so this wasn't a surprise, but it is still very difficult.
When I got home yesterday I got a call from a friend telling me that another friend has kicked her husband out. There is hope for reconciliation, but he screwed up large and it will be a long road back. And there's a possibility that there won't be reconciliation, which means a whole different set of difficulties, and an entirely different long road.