Goodbye Butt Donut

There has been a passing in our family.

A tragic passing.

My darling butt donut is no more. Yesterday morning it was performing like a good little butt donut. It sat jauntily in the chair awaiting its next order. When asked to uphold the royal hiney, it snapped to and did its job like a pro.

It was a good little butt donut.

It understood my needs.

It got me.

It knew, for example, that I have like zero fat on my behind and a healing bedsore. It instinctively knew that this fact made it an important presence in my life.

I like to think it was proud of that fact.

Yesterday afternoon I first started to notice a difference.

It seemed a little less jaunty...

a little less firm.

It sagged as it sat on the throne.

It lacked the verve I had seen previously as the royal hiney was lowered onto its personage.

Last night I was sitting on my butt donut. I heard a tiny little sound, like the sigh of a gnat.

I noticed a distinct lack of comfort in my nether regions.

I reached under me and pulled out butt donut.

He was flat.

He was completely deflated.

I cradled his limp body in my arms and applied mouth to butt donut resescutation.

At first it appeared to perk up. It's little body swelled in my arms. I checked it over for contusion or abrasions.

Finding none I gently placed it back upon the throne.

I saw it try to muster enthusiasm as I lowered myself down upon him, slowly, gently.

Once again I heard the sigh...this time it was a death knell.

Butt donut was gone.

How do I go on?