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My Dog Hate Me

How do you say good-bye to people with whom you’ve spent more time for the last three years than any of your friends and family members (except for a small furry one)? People you’ve come to respect and care about deeply?

You don’t.

It’s true that I won’t be blogging about pets any more. But I haven’t been fully present since I announced that I would be working on a new project last January. And being half here is neither what I want nor what you, gentle readers, deserve. The topics we’ve been having a conversation about, from rescue and training to BSL and tainted food, are too important to be given short shrift.

That said, this blog has most of all been about sharing experiences with people who understand that our pets are family members and that loving animals is a key part of what makes us human, in the fullest sense of that term. And I will always be part of that community, which has given me more than I’d ever imagined was possible — support, advice, and help in real life. Not to mention permission to discuss dog poop.

I was going to say a long good-bye, share some of my favorite posts, recognize individuals who have been particularly supportive, but I found it impossible to choose. And pulling the bandage off quickly is best. Besides, my last post, about Frankie, said it all. And it’s the image I want to leave you with: My muse, the always amusing Frankie, forever in his prime.

I hope you’ll come over to my new blog, Freud’s Butcher, a journey into the life of my mother’s family in Vienna (you knew there had to be a reason I was suddenly throwing around German phrases, didn’t you?). It would be great to see old friends. But even if you don’t, you’ll still be with me. You don’t cut part of your heart out when you move homes.

Unless, of course, you’re relocating to Transylvania. Then all bets are off.
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