Robinson's death has hit me hard. Also, the general feeling of doglessness. I haven't been without a dog, except for when on holiday, for eighteen years. And only for brief periods in my whole life. And maybe I'm at the best of times a bit lonely, and a dog is a comforting Presence in one's life, even when it is old and infirm and sleeping most
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In the great scheme of 'stupid things people do while grieving', this sounds like it was barely stupid at all. I'm sorry it hit you with a (nother) realization of the depth of your grief, though, because that really hurts.
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There ought to be comforter dogs, who come to keep a person company, grief counsellor dogs.
("The Weakness in Me" is my favorite Joan Armatrading song, but I think we've talked about that before...)
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