Glad to be home but started crying as soon as I walked in the front door & The Black Dog wasn't there. Her bed, her toys, her food, her collar. Then we left to pick up her ashes and I looked over to say "Be back, Black" and cried again. I always said that to her when I left. It seems so weird to me that I could forget that she's gone but she was by my side for 14 years. She used to follow me all over the house, even towards the end when she wasn't feeling well. It's still hard to breathe. I didn't cry lie this when I was diagnosed.
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