A year ago this week (I thought today, but actually Tuesday--which I am glad I didn't know on Tuesday), Chance died. It's something I honestly don't think about any more than I have to, because even a year later it still hurts too much, He was my first dog-baby, my best friend, and the bridge over which Mark and I crossed from two individuals to a family. He kindled what will clearly be a lifelong passion for dogs in me, and I am grateful in so many ways for the little tiny bit of time we had.
What I keep thinking about today, though, is talking to my dad on the phone a couple of days after he died. When Dad gave me what is probably the only good piece of advice he's ever given me or ever will. He told me that as soon as we could stand it, Mark and I should go get another dog, because we're dog people now, and that's what dog people do. And he was right. I know some people think they should wait after one pet dies to get another pet, wait until they are ready. Well, the truth is that if we'd waited we never would have been ready. It was something we had to jump into, and without Leo, I don't think we ever would have been able to live with losing Chance.
So July 11 was the first anniversay of Chance's death, and July 30 is the first anniversary of our life with Leo. And that's the cycle, how it's always going to be. It breaks your heart, but that's how it is.