It’s been a bad couple of weeks. Work has been a little insane with travel out the ear and deadlines I should never have accepted. But that’s what they pay me for… I try to avoid complaining about having a job.
But on top of everything else, Cyrus the wonder dog, our four-year-old black lab was sick. Nothing seemed to help, and finally on Friday, Kat took him to a specialist. Lymphatic cancer, already seriously progressed… we had a decision to make, and the right one, as usual, was the hardest.
I couldn’t be there for Cyrus or for Kat at the time. I know it was hard, even though it was the right thing to do.
Our house is emptier now. The familiar presence gone. There is another dog-shaped hole in our lives.