Requiem all over the place

Death has been having a field day lately.

On Monday my sister Helaina's ex-mother-in-law died suddenly after falling and hitting her head, which somehow ruptured her stomach lining. She never woke up from surgery. On Tuesday morning, one of my cats killed a female cardinal who had flown into my garage. He broke her neck and punctured her tiny skull with one of his fangs. On Tuesday evening, my sick Betta, Snow, died while I held her in my hand near the top of the bowl water in order to help her breathe her last breaths without panicking. And, early Tuesday morning (I found this out Tuesday evening) during a routine traffic stop, two Tampa police officers were gunned down and killed by a 24-year-old with 18 arrests in his criminal file. One officer leaves behind a wife and 4 young sons; the other officer's wife is 9 months pregnant with their first child. What I want to know is how a young man with 18 arrests in 6 years is still walking free in the streets of Tampa. Does 'career criminal' mean anything to anyone in the justice system?

Sometimes I think that creating a life on a deserted island like Tom Hanks' character in "Castaway" just might be a beautiful existence. Peace and quiet, no crime, no information overload, no paying bills, no pending foreclosure. True, there are no other humans to talk to, but I'm sure there would be the occasional birds nesting on the island and if there's water, grasses, flowers and trees, there must be some kind of animal life on the island. Hopefully not the "Lost" kind.