The Worst 36 Hours of My Life

Fri., Nov. 19: Pretty much this entire week has been bad

I apologize for the lack of content this week. I was—I am—in no condition to write about the news, which I presume is still happening, though I haven’t paid the slightest attention.

On Monday morning, my 12-year-old Corgi-Golden Retriever, Belle, was catatonic. She’d been perfectly normal and energetic and happy on Sunday. We rushed her to the emergency vet, but she died before the docs could even figure out what had happened.

On Monday night, we rushed her brother, a 13-year-old Cavalier King Charles Spaniel named Sebastian, to the ER with what turned out to be an infection that caused a high fever and sudden anemia. He’s fine now, physically, but he’s figuring out that his sister’s absence is permanent. They’ve been bonded since they were puppies.

If you know me in real life—that is, outside the context of this newsletter—there’s a good chance you’ve met Belle and Sebastian. I took them to the office when I was at the INDY. My wife and I took them with us when we went out to eat. We arranged our work and social lives to cater to their needs—especially Belle, who developed separation anxiety during the pandemic.

Belle’s loss has been devastating. She was the best girl. (Here’s what we posted on FB about it—plus about 50 pics of my girl.)

I’ve been unable to concentrate on anything work-related this week. I’ll be back as soon as I can. Thank you for understanding.