Four Months Away. Fifty-two Days Since.

Yes, I’ve been away.

I took the summer off to be with my dogs. It was so hot here in Long Beach; we just chilled in the bedroom watching TV, playing with squeaky babies, and occasionally dipping in the poolito. It was a good summer. (By the way, it’s still in the mid to high 70s here and it’s December.)

Then, 52 days ago, I lost one of my best ever friends: Jack.

You guys know Jack, Brover of T, of the Jack/T Bromance. The dark soul with the most forgiving heart I’ve ever known. In all my years of living with dogs, Jack was … well, you’ve heard it before. Just don’t have the oomph in me right now to tell that hard luck (but happy ending) tale tonight.

In retrospect, I can see that Jack was ill for almost two years. Probably ready to go for a few months before he finally did. Anyway, I didn’t really want to talk about it, and actually still don’t feel like it much now. But it’s been four months, and (more news) we’ll be moving from SoCal to Kalamazoo in a month or so, so I thought I should check in.

So, recap: Hot summer. Dog not feeling well. Dog died. Moving to Michigan.

I know, this is the weirdest blog post I’ve eve written.

Jack was my hero; I’m taking it kind of hard.

Jack, you are so dearly missed.

Jack, you are so dearly missed.

 

 

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