Telling a Tale of a Different Kind of Keyboard

MVC and CRUD make software easier to write, but harder to change. Microservice-based architectures can help even the smallest of projects remain agile in the long term, but most tutorials meander in theory or completely miss the point of what it means to be microservice-based. Roll up your sleeves with real projects and learn

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The Doe

The doe lies upon the cold snow and even colder asphalt. Her breath comes in random gasps as one long silent scream of fear and pain. I and others pass by cocooned in a chrysalis of metal, glass, and plastic. We gaze in pity and helpless horror as we hurry home to get out of the storm; to emerge and bury our minds in minutia and forget the stricken doe.

But I cannot forget. The terror in her face merges and segues with the plight of an old dog, my companion and friend, whose eyes are occluded with cataracts and whose joints are misshapen with arthritis. There is something wrong deep inside and he can no longer keep his balance. He has horrific attacks of vertigo and his heart and kidneys are failing. I can no longer, in good conscience, force him to stay by my side.

The decision made, he stands upon the metal veterinary table and I hold him lest he should fall. I feel his soft hair and warmth beneath my hands and he trembles. The vet inserts the needle and depresses the plunger. I feel his body slump beneath my hands. In that minute, my friend and I have parted ways.

An endless drive home; a homemade wooden coffin; a deep narrow hole that I have laboured long to dig in the frozen soil of our garden; all that is left of him is a little snow covered mound of soil in the garden and shattered memories in my hovel of a mind. Shouldn’t the bitter pain of parting mellow and mingle with the memories of shared joy? Shouldn’t I rejoice that he no longer suffers and that he has been taken home to the God who gives us all life? I believe these things; I hope these things; yet I despair of ever feeling joy again.

I bury myself at work. I read and distract myself at home. I finally force myself to lay down and to sleep — to sleep, perchance to dream.

The doe lies upon the cold snow and even colder asphalt…

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