Dear Minnesota Matron is going through that most painful rite of passage: her beloved pooch is fading. Jekyll, the sassy dog who once ate a five-pound bag of flour, is actively dying.
The Matron writes with such strength, and she is handling the situation with grace. My heart goes out to her.
It’s been less than a year since I lost the Geriatric Poodle, and I think about him every day. The day he died, I told him that I’d love him every day forever. And it’s true.
I miss his sweet smell and the softness of his fur. And I was laughing just yesterday because he would smack his lips when he was happy, and I have long wanted to try that out in meetings. You know, instead of nodding in agreement? I want to just smack my lips and see what happens. Maybe it will catch on.
I don’t understand people who say they aren’t dog people.
Obviously, dogs are a valued part of my team.
And for anybody who thinks dogs don’t give their all? Well, I defy you to watch this news clip. I promise it has a happy ending, but … ohmigod.
So, here’s to Lil’ Frankfurter and Foxie Doxie and all those dogs out there who just want somebody to love.
Let a dog rescue you. Because I can’t adopt any more and still, you know, not be a freak.