So, where were we? Oh yes, I remember: The dog was dying, so I took a week off. Turns out that week lasted three and a half years. Hey, these things happen.
Quick update: The dog died, or more specifically we had her euthanized when it was clear things were about to get very bad. It happened precisely one week later, just as the vet said. Would if they could be that precise in their cost estimates.
I don’t mean to be flip about this—I was ridiculously sad. I was actually away when Robin (my wife) took Bayla (our dog) in, and maybe that’s for the best, as I didn’t get the chance to traumatize a vet-full of people like I did when it was Barkley’s turn. And when I say the best, I mean for me (and probably for the other vet-goers). It sucked for Robin. And it wasn’t much better for the dog.
There’s another dog now, a Boxer-German Shepard mix, who we got as a little tiny puppy. She is now a horrendously big puppy and an absolutely marvelous dog. There’s also a twelve-pound toy poodle who has turned us into something we thought we’d never be: Slave to one of those little shit dogs. We love him, though all evidence points strongly to the notion that he’s a four-legged asshole. I’ll talk more about him on another day.
Lots more has happened: I got a job with a major car magazine, finally fulfilling an almost-life-long dream of getting my byline in print. Said major car magazine is now a major car web site, but as I’m writing from the depths of the COVID-19 disaster, I am happy just to be employed.
I finally got to go to Italy. Crap Italy, but Italy nonetheless.
I took up film photography again, and in my obsessive-compulsive-bordering-on-hoarder way, have acquired about a zillion cameras and started posting picks on Flickr.
And my life still seems strange to me, strange and wonderful, and I’m inclined to keep talking about it right here. So stay tuned, because what else have you got to do?