…but you’re older
Tomorrow will mark one year since Roscoe died. I had kinda considered staying home from work with a bottle of tequila, but several things changed my mind. Can’t afford to lose a day of work, can’t drink like I used to, don’t want to upset Grace and Roscoe never did like tequila anyway, being a confirmed scotch drinker. So instead I’ll just go about my daily biz and know that now, once the one year mark has passed, the painful memories will truly begin to fade into the past.
I miss you, buddy. You were a helluva dog.
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