#28.03.2026

[codename-adler]

[tobethemselves]

LTHQ shared this via Insta story (28.03.2026)

[mydailypony]

076 /// 28.03.2026

Todays Pony is an Applejack Alcohol Marker test! I got new pens so im trying them out...but they had no yellow!! The fur color is their "lemon yellow"! Can you believe that? That is not a yellow. That is an Orange.

[codename-adler]

[stillbekindtoyou]

Mourning old blog a bit. But hey ho, we move. Needed something to start journaling again and this is most effective for me. Grateful for: a nao today which felt restorative, a friend who brought around delicious cookies, a tasty dinner.

[iwillstealyournamelikeafae]

happiness for today

the last two days I felt a pain on the right side of my face (particularly the sinus and the ear), which seems to be gone now

seems like my body is recovering

for once, the headache medicine worked, which is a very rare thing to happen

^^

[neonoperahouse]

A farewell

There are days of grief which are ultimately inevitable, yet one pleads for them to arrive on the always-tomorrow, just a day or a week further down the stream of time, never today.

Noel passed away in the early hours of morning. He did not make it through to see his last dawn. As the birds started to sing and the dew melted off of thorny branches, this world was left to continue revolving with one living soul less treading on its ground. Never again will I join him in joyously bolting through tall grasses while chasing the flying knob of corn, never again will I see him lazing around in afternoon's sunlight without dread or sorrow, never again will I be able to scratch his bare belly to his satisfied huffs. It is strange how the smallest beings manage to leave the largest voids. Now his usual places of rest lay deserted, the walls seem mute without the tiny click-clacking of his paws. There is a half eaten meal left in his bowl, he had once more saved the best chunks for later. My gaze is still drawn to the exact spot he would've been in as I type this out. He had his habits, after all.

I have sewn his body into linen, along with his favourite foods, the Yoshi plushie he loved to chew on, a nice stick and a coin, just in case the ferryman or ferrywoman happens to exist. I asked them to keep him in the middle of their boat, for he was afraid of open water. I interred him in the garden next to the apple tree, where he loved to relax and look at the bees during summer. I told him that the dark and cold of the earth is not for long.

How does one even begin to write a eulogy? To list all the joys and comforts he had given me would border on the impossible. I hope he felt the same in regards to me. Thank you, Noel, for your time and presence, for your patience (I know it's annoying that humans have to sleep for seven to eight hours every night, but you put up with it very well), for your bravery in guarding our territory from those evil, plotting cats and birds (who were always faster than you), for teaching me that worrying is useless, and that I should rather take a nap or chew on a pine cone with him instead (sorry for not having taken up your offer for the last one), for always forgiving me most graciously within two minutes, after having stared daggers at me, because I had been unwilling to share chocolate with you (I told you, it's poisonous for your species). May you go to a kind place where those sweet forbidden treats hang around abundantly from bushes, where the plains open up to the horizon for endless running and chasing, where the nights are warm and ever without thunder, where you're whole, healthy and in good canine company for a thousand lifetimes.

It has been an honour to share life with you. Thank you for sharing yours with me.

"You who pass along this path,

if you come across this monument,

laugh not, I pray, though it is a dog's grave.

Tears fell for me

and dust was heaped above my head

by my human's hand."

(Select Epigrams from the Greek Anthology, J. W. Mackail, 1890, London) - quote slightly altered.

[pernillemagda]

New game, another one I can't watch because of work