Over the years AN has proved to be 95% A’s baseball and 5% community therapy, and today I do not write about Brent Rooker or Luis Severino. If you’ve ever lost a pet you know exactly how today feels for me, and if you haven’t it’s probably not something that can be explained.
This morning I came into the kitchen to find 13.5 year old Billy in the middle of the floor and not at all alive. Yesterday he was healthy and happy, romping at Point Isabel where his tail flapped furiously like a hummingbird’s wings each time he met a fellow dog.