Her paw print arrived today. Bastards. Just about the time I could get through three hours at a time without crying; just about the time I no longer bowed in reverence to the sacred places where she loved to sleep; just about the time I’d laughed really hard in days,  I opened the card from the vet who put my dog down. There was Libby’s paw print. Punch to the gut. Damn doctor. She didn’t even warn me. A sudden gasp caught in my throat and then came the heaving … [Read more...]