Photo courtesy of the author
I can’t tell you how many times I wrote a column with my dog, Brewster, by my side. Sometimes by my feet. Sometimes curled up next to me on the couch if I wanted warmth and company. He was complicit in much of what I typed, aiding and abetting and abutting. So blame him.
He was a mellow guy. He was part corgi, and the part-something-else seemed to overrule a corgi’s natural need to speak up. I don’t need all my fingers to count how many times he barked in his life.