The grief is like being stabbed in the chest every couple of minutes.

He was such an integral part of our lives. He was foundational. It feels impossible that he could be gone.

I cried three times this morning just driving 2 miles and back to get some lattes. And it didn't help that I got a free drink and a hug from the cashier/manager/person (perks of going to a furry-owned cafe)

I'm so glad this beautiful creature created so many wonderful memories for so many people.

One of our friends watched him for us a few years ago. While we were gone, he took a few videos of him playing instruments and singing to Dokken, and Dokken would howl along.

Here's "Over the Rainbow". This is a great encapsulation of how beautiful this guy was.

Four days since we said goodbye to him. My chest still hurts. I'm still constantly at the verge of tears. I will surely cry several times today. I'm still feeling all kinds of guilt and uncertainty.

Home feels like there's not enough oxygen in the air, like something fundamental and necessary has been pumped out.

I can't stop thinking about those final few seconds. One second he's there with us, his head resting in my hands, then a tiny little cough or hiccup or some little noise when the propofol went in and he laid his head down and closed his eyes, then I saw his eyes roll slightly back as the second drug went in, and then the vet softly told us "it's done, he's gone, I'm so sorry"

it's all over so fast.

fuck.