Beware of dog

Dad will say it was a joint parental decision, but if one polled the kids, I am sure we would say he is why we never had a dog or cat growing up.

After my friend told me her dog died this morning, I am not sure to thank or yell at him.

Her dog was older and had been in and out of vet hospitals for the last few months. When I saw her yesterday, she told me that Simon was really bad and not eating. She and her husband went to the vet today and ended it. She said that it was awful and peaceful at the same time and that they'll really miss him.

I can hardly think straight when I imagine the yellow furball next to me retiring. Claren's death is going to kill me.

Roger Angell talks in his memoir "Let Me Finish" about people who trusted him enough to fall asleep when he was driving. I would not expect anyone to sleep if I was driving, unless they were to pass out from fear, but Claren is the only person to trust me enough to sleep by my side. As long as she can feel my arm or leg, things are OK for her.

I guess it is no different for love in general. My high school has a big fundraiser every year to help find a cure for cystic fibrosis called Superdance. The former principal gives a speech about a family who is the reason behind Superdance. It probably does not change.

He talks about this boy who confided to him that he did not want to get to know one of the girls with CF because she was just going to die and break his heart. The principal told the girl and she said it was the boy's loss. The principal relayed this to the boy, who did become friends with her, and she did die and break his heart. But the boy told the principal it was worth it and spoke at the girl's funeral.

Schmaltz-y, yes. Of questionable veracity, yes. (And would it kill them to dance for me?) But true sentiments, I guess.

Maybe Claren and I will get hit by a bus as we are crossing the street and save us both the pain.