Every Friday when we clean, I would move it carefully, place it somewhere safe, away from action. After we were done, I would move it back to my room and clean it carefully.
For 5 years I was so afraid that it could fall and break.
Yesterday it did.
It's weird that even though I'm worried about the toxicity of its liquids spilled in my room and the tiny pieces of broken glass scattered everywhere; I feel relieved somehow. I will not worry about it breaking or about the toxicity of the liquids anymore, I'm done with that, it happened and I won't anticipate it again.
I have to admit that although the dog is destroying my life; in a certain way this helped me get rid of some of the clutter surrounding me.
