I have a headache from too much crying and not enough water. We had to put Molly down yesterday morning (I can hardly even type it), my sweet sweet baby dog I've had for 13 years, almost to the day. I'm trying not to really, you know, think about it too much because I'm so emotionally drained. There hasn't been a break, either. I work all the time now, one job or the other. But I can't complain about that at all, because I did take a week vacation to New Orleans for a PGA tourney, I love both of my bosses and both jobs are excellent work situations, and every dollar I save is another step away.

It's been just Huck and I all evening. He had escaped into the front yard when I pulled into my driveway in the rain, he was soaking wet and I could tell he'd been roaming the neighborhood for a few hours. He was so happy to see me, we were both so happy to get inside and shut ourselves in for the evening. I dried him off and took a bubble bath and we snuggled up on my bed and ate M&Ms and watched internet tv. He is never allowed to die. And I keep saying I don't have any tears left, but apparently I still do. I want both of my dogs. And I don't care if it makes me seem like a 5 year old, I know Molly's in Heaven and can see and hear everything again and is running all around like she hasn't been able to in a while. It's just really hard to get used to the idea that she's not here anymore, because she's been here for most of my life.

Death is horrible, and I don't think I'll ever be resigned to it as just a natural part of the circle of life.