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In my several decades on this planet, I’ve lost a number of beloved people and pets. For some reason, Buddy’s death has been the hardest I can recall. Last Friday, March 29, marked the one-year anniversary of his passing, and I was a wreck. At one point, I sat on the floor next to the bookcase, rereading Gwen Cooper’s account of when she had to let her beloved Homer go and ugly-crying like I hadn’t in a long, long time. Continue reading
Last weekend, I started writing a blog post about my sweet Buddy. He was lying in my lap as I wrote, dozing and sometimes purring.
And dying.
That post ended up getting bumped when a friend called to advise me of the horrible tragic death of someone I’d known as a friend and to whom she’d been much closer. I thought I had more time to write about Buddy.
I was wrong. At least if I wanted to write about him during his lifetime.
P. Jo Anne Burgh 