A few weeks ago, a woman in the art class I was taking suggested a book, Theo of Golden. My friend in the class had also read it. The next week, she brought me her copy.

I started reading a little and immediately wanted more, but my work schedule made it difficult, so I got the audiobook. I listened every day.

Yesterday, I took the train into the city and was listening. It was the point in the story where Theo dies. It comes so quickly that, standing in the middle of Grand Central, I cried. My eyes filled up. Then I spotted my friend, the one who had also read the book, and asked her, “What the hell were you thinking telling me to read this?” And then I laughed, because it was so good, but so sad.

Later that day, my dog Ben had a seizure. It came without warning—one moment he was beside me, breathing softly, and the next his body stiffened and trembled in a way that felt unnatural and terrifying. His legs jerked, his eyes unfocused, and there was a helplessness in his small frame that made my chest tighten. I remember the sound of my own voice calling his name, too loud, too desperate, as if I could pull him back just by saying it. Time stretched and collapsed all at once. I felt panic, fear, and a deep, aching sorrow rising together, knowing something was terribly wrong. I had to make a very hard decision, very quickly, to have him put down.

And in that moment, he was that old man.

Because he gave me so many gifts. So many little portraits of myself reflected back through his eyes. And the hard truth was that our burden was over in this world.

The next morning, as sad as I was, I listened to the final few chapters of the book. And the funeral service for Theo was, in fact, the funeral service for my Ben. It was his service I was hearing through the audiobook. It was healing, sad, and fitting.

Though Ben was not an old man from Portugal, he was an old man who gave me a gift every day. He was an artist who often slipped into the silent middle of my life to remind me of the important things.

And right there on my couch, I laid my Theo and my Ben to rest.

The final chapters calmed me and reminded me that, in the end, it’s all okay.

Sadness can make us bitter or wise. We get to choose.

— Theo of Golden

Macha getting some fresh sun 🌞

I can’t tell if it’s a long lost missing Boston terrier or just a stray, but I might be fostering it soon. Wondering what advice you have for finding a home?… a little nervous bc I have a cat and I’m unsure if it’s friendly to other animals actually…

He’s got the energy of the crack head outside of 7/11 (positive) and everyone we meet on a walk tells us how handsome he is. Such a gem of a guy, he’s my best buddy.

Caesar’s Mast Cell Tumor

Hi! My 5 year old Boston Terrier Caesar had a FNA done 2 days ago and sadly mast cells were present. He is actually in surgery right now for removal. The thing is… it’s in a weird spot. It’s at the entrance to his ear. The doctor is going to first remove it with as wide margins as he can then if the margins aren’t clear then he wants to talk about removing the ear.

Has anyone else had a MCT in a similar area? If so how was your experience? If you had the ear removed what was the recovery like?

\*\*\* I’m not seeking medical advice, just curious if anyone has had a similar experience. This has all been a lot.

Mongo, on his first beach trip.

Story time, you’ve prob seen my other posts of my duo, Peaches (6 this month) and Beans (soon to be 3)… While we love Peaches to the moon, she was a breader baby, expensive and has had all the issues and good old Beans was a rehomed baby who was free. I’ve never had a more loving animal. He is just so happy!

My little girl is getting so big. She was 1.6 lbs when we got her and was diagnosed with pneumonia within the first week I had her. She’s made an amazing recovery and keeps growing like a weed. She’s now 7 lbs and the sassiest little pup ever. I love her so much and just thought i’d share.

Our boy Augusts (13 years old) started having periodic quick yelps. We thought maybe a splinter, no palpating anywhere triggered it. This morning he woke up and started yelping loud for about a minute. His neck was pinned to the side. He finally stopped but was unable to stand and left side was still stiff and he had a head tilt. At first we thought it could be neurological, the vet said his vitals were good and he was up and active with a minor tilt still.

After coming home he laid down and seemed okay. He even no longer had the tilt. Then he woke up and it happened again. I was there this time (first time was my wife) and held him. The muscle tightness and behavior reminded me of muscle guarding. I’m very familiar with it as I just had spinal fusion due to vertebrae in my neck. We took him to the ER, Dr agreed with me, pain killers injected, he’s on gaba and metho (for muscle relaxers). He seems so agitated though, he’s not sleeping with his eyes closed, he’s had a few more yelps. The weird thing is. Once he’s up, he eats, drinks, on a small walk he even rolled in the grass just fine. I’m at such a loss and my anxiety has my head spinning. Anyone ever have a dog experience something like this. We’re in active communication with our vet but just wanted to get support and insights from the community