I just lost my pup Franco. I’m grieving.
The wonderful things my friend did that brought me immense cheer are currently making me incredibly sad because of the loss. Even small things, like eating peanut butter or even seeing the jar on the shelf, bring a lump to my throat because Franco knew what opening the peanut jar sounded like. If Rebecca or I got to eat peanut butter so did Franco. He’d run to the kitchen and engage us in an intense stare down to make sure this was the case.
So many things. Even writing this post is making me sad because Franco would lie on the top of my legs whenever I sat down to write. Right now I’m imagining the warmth of his body on my legs outstretched over the ottoman.