This is my old Gus sleeping in the tomato plants. He looks so peaceful. I miss him so. |
3rd
January 2015
Dear Cassi,
Well, it happened, August the dogust, my old Gus,
is no more. It had already been done when I got up and Pickle came and took me
his collar so I could inform animal control that we no longer had a Doberman Pincher.
Pony Girl came and took all the old dog food and dog medication. She got all
the dog bowls and such and we were left with the feeling that we would never
have another dog in this house.
Pickle cried, but I did my crying the night before,
and so I poured the whisky. Forgiven by Wild Turkey was our drink of choice,
and we had it with butter scotch cream soda. Pickle kept it going with every
kind of alcohol we had in the house to numb the pain of putting the old dog
down.
Me, I had a beer to chase the whisky, but spirits
never did live in me. I have always gone to my grief alone and so doing so
meant keeping my strength in company. I had dishes to do and food to cook with
no time for my morning. I guess you know that feeling.
Stay strong, little sister,
Richard Leland Neal
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