Buddy is Home

I collected Buddy's ashes today. Such a small box to contain a dog with such an oversized personality. I'll be honest, it was difficult being there. A family was leaving as I arrived, grief etched on their faces, so my composure dissolved before I'd even walked through the door. But the women who worked there were lovely, hugs and Kleenex were passed around, and I got through it. They really are angels, doing the work they do. It's so appreciated by those of us who are grieving and not quite in our right minds.

As I drove away, I looked down at the clock and it read 11:11. (My sisters and I joke that when we see 11:11 on the clock, it's our Nana saying hello from the other side.)

Hi to you too, Budster. You're home now, little guy.

Montreal Walkabout

Missing Buddy something fierce today, so I decided to walk to Atwater Market.

Met a pleasant looking older woman who was walking her two little dogs, so I stopped to pat them.

Our conversation moved from dogs (nod nod) to Barbados (nod nod) to children starving in Haiti because 3/4 of the population believes in voodoo so they take babies into the woods and leave them to die because they're NOT CHRISTIANS (wait, wha-at?!)

After several minutes of this nonsense, I finally said, "Surely you don't believe that God punishes children because their parents are not Christians?" And she said, "No, no. It's not God. It's the devil."

The dogs were cute at least.