because none of us is fucking up like we think we are, is what i'm trying to say

Curious Incident of the Dog in the Morningtime

Yesterday was a sad day. On Sunday evening my parents called to say they had made a decision: it was time. The family dog, Harry, was to be put to sleep. 

If you've never lost a pet, this lady can articulate the feeling better than I ever could. All I can say is that my brother and I felt all funny and weird and strange. So knowing that at 9 a.m. yesterday morning it was happening, we decided to sack the day off. We went to be sad in Hampstead Heath instead, where we shared Harry-related memories and laughed at the puppies of strangers and realised that our little friend, the one who we've had in our ever-changing lives for over sixteen years, was gone.













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