Today I had an unexpected phone call from James. Apparently, Neo, our Weimaraner that everyone says was mine, had been hit by a semi down at the farm. James put him out of his misery, which I do appreciate and is burying him next to another of our dogs, Lady. So, no more Neo. No more Neo to miss me when I’m gone, no more Neo to sneak into bed with me, no more Neo to go everywhere he possibly can with me, no more Neo to trip over my heals wherever I go in the house, no more Neo to lay at my feet in the bathroom because he just has to be with me, no more Neo to dream about hunting with, no more Neo to bump my rear view mirror while I’m driving or block my view, no more Neo to love me and help me up, no more Neo… I could go on and on and drive myself into quite a state of self pity and loneliness, but I won’t. I loved him while he lasted, and he loved me. There will never be another Neo.