News

Thanks to everyone for all your kind words. Thanks for the notes; the poems, and just the good wishes. Jon and I really appreciate it all. Phouka was our fuzzy princess, alias Little Miss Velvet Ears. In her latter years after she went blind she was the Phouka-dozer, because she just plowed through everything. If your shins were in the way, that was your tough luck. She was also the fuzzy pin ball, because on days when she was in a hurry she would go from object to object, smiling, wagging her tail, and slowing down for no obstacles. When she first went blind she would tap ahead of her with her paw, but when she got more confident, we had to run ahead of her to make sure she didn?t endanger herself. She was just so sure that it would all be okay. And it was, until the end.

Gorey?s bowl is gone. The place where it sat seems empty. I didn?t think I?d miss having him swimming around, as much as I do. I can?t tell whether I would have missed him more had he died farther away from loosing Phouka, or whether her death has made his passing more poignant. It?s a chicken/egg kind of question. All I know for certain is we are down to the smallest number of pets we have ever owned together. The house seems empty. You?d think two dogs would be plenty, but not when you started with four. Gorey was always an only fish. The fifty gallon fish tank was retired long before we got him. I am resisting the urge to get any new pets right away. A new pet should be an action, not a reaction.