Depths

I love the holidays. No newsflash, I know.  I hate the void left in Jenny's absence. I hate the feeling that I have no chance of seeing her again, even if it's only to say goodbye  I woke with the ache, the pain of missing someone you loved and will love until you can't love anymore. 

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Thanksgiving 2025.
3:16 p.m. Willow and I just returned from the Park with no name. It was closed for the holiday, which was surprising and didn't stop us from our daily constitutional. I found the sole parking lot that wasn't behind a gate or 🚧 barrier 🚧, and away we went. It's the highlight of her day. Now, the heat is off, and she is on the porch, guarding the open 🚪 door 🚪. She is quiet and adorable.

At the park, which is very large, as I like to point out whenever the opportunity presents itself, a man came out of nowhere and was approaching me rather quickly. I'm not saying I was about to get mugged, I'm just saying it was sketchy, very sketchy. Then he saw my big-ass shaggy girl, and he slowed down and moved to the other side of the road as I could be heard saying, "easy, eeeasy" to Willow, as if she was some sort of danger.  Her large size is what makes going to the park on a day when it is nearly empty an easy call. My new favorite thing, and this park trip is constantly evolving, is that she has taken to putting her face next  to mine as we are driving. When she does this, he is down on all fours, her body spanning the front and back seat like some sort of black curly bridge, her chest resting on the center console (is there a left of center console?), her giant head pushing into mine as she is lightly panting, looking for all the world as if she is smiling. 


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