This Wednesday we had to say goodbye to our dog Aero. He had developed an inoperable tumor in and around the orbit of his eye, which we let go as long as we felt we could. His continued energy and enthusiasm despite blindness and obvious discomfort made it a difficult call to make. These past two days since I've tried to tell myself how much easier it will be without him barking incessantly at us in the backyard to throw his ball again, or the seemingly endless quantities of poop to scoop, or how he loved to "mark" my strawberry beds, or how we had to watch him outside so that he didn't wander off to chase big trucks or say "Hi" to all the neighbors. But the truth is even in his bad habbits he found a place in our lives, and like a naughty child gone away, there is little joy in the quiet back yard or wide-open garage door. It's silly, but I'll probably cry again when I scoop the last poops in the yard. 
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