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My last couple of posts have been downers, so I intended today’s to be light and (hopefully) funny. Since I started this blog, I’ve always written based on what moves me, and as I’m often amused about something, I didn’t think keeping today’s post upbeat would be a tall order. However, then I spoke to my mom on the phone, and my heart’s been heavy since. My parents had to put Freddy to sleep on Monday.

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After I heard that Freddy only had a month or so, I wanted to go over to my parents’ so I could see him and give him a snuggle. I suspected that my parents would not tell me when the time came to put him to sleep–and I was right, as I only heard about it a couple of days after the fact–so I wanted to be sure I’d be able to see him at least one more time. Life got in the way, and I didn’t make it over there. Scratch that. No excuses. I didn’t make the time to go over there. And boy, now do I regret it. Freddy’s gone.

I can be angry at my parents for not telling me, but that would just be displacement. I’m really angry at myself. I should have visited him, given him some love. Told him what a good dog he was and how he had brought all of us so much joy over the years.

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Rest well, Freddy. I love you.

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