It’s unbelievable that Stuart’s gone at all, let alone for six months. It’s so distressing that I just didn’t feel like posting yesterday.
And now, after the Orlando massacre, I don’t feel like much of anything. Things like this make it hard to leave the house for fear of being killed. When is this going to end?
WWSS? (What Would Stuart Say?)
He’d say, “Buck up, peepstress. Don’t let those with no respect for life take your own respect away. Stand up. Be proud. Good will triumph over evil. Now, snap out of it.”
“And, while you’re at it,” he’d continue, “Don’t make me gnaw at your ankles. It’s time to stop grieving so badly about moi. I’m always with you and always will be.”
On that note, I learned this morning that a dear friend recently rescued a 7-year-old boxer who’d been kept in a dog run his whole life. The only interaction he’d had with his owner was when he was fed. He’d never had a treat in his life. No vets. No neuter. No nothing. Now, he’s living the lush life with my friend and her cats.
Talk about a happy ending.
Stuart would approve.