I remember telling Teddy I respected his decision. This was one of our 3am talks when I couldn’t sleep but he couldn’t stay awake because he was dying. I’d already scheduled the appointment. Gave him a couple days to change his mind. But I knew he wouldn’t. He wanted to die. So we’d lie there on the rug in front of the fireplace that was just for show. And I’d run my fingers through his fur and talk to him. I told him he was lucky he’d found someone who thinks of dying a lot. A lot of dogs don’t.
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