We had to put the oldest of our three dogs to sleep this morning. Her name was Lulu and she was fourteen, which is a very respectable age for a black lab. Here’s a picture of her — she’s the one on the right (weird Willy is on the left).
She was found on the street over a decade ago by our friend, Jessica Cunningham. We tried to find her owner, but no one replied to the signs we put up and no one was looking for her at the local shelters and veterinarians, so we took her in and named her Lulu. We had her even before we had our first child and she always reminded us of when we were young and relatively carefree. She was cheerful and plucky and very very sweet, so it was a sad morning for us. We kept her collar and gave it to the kids, who were glad to have it.
I went straight from the vet’s office to the writer’s room for the TV show I’m working on. I wasn’t really in a very funny mood. Luckily, we had a cockroach invasion about mid-day and we decided to head out and resume again tomorrow. I’ve never been so thankful for a cockroach invasion.