Life intervened

Well, life and death actually. My beloved Suki died the day after her 12th birthday. She's the black one above. We were blindsided. Chronologically she was 12, but mentally and physically she acted like a much younger dog. She still leaped face high when she saw you getting her leash, she still enjoyed everything (except vacuum cleaners and laundry baskets) and loved everybody. On her birthday she was to get a wonderful day out and one of those dinners that would make her turn her nose up at her kibble for days after. Instead she was lethargic and not interested in any food. We had always thought that we'd know the end was near when she wouldn't eat, but she had a period last year when she was reluctant to eat, but still full of life and love. Turned out to be a food aversion possibly tied to the antibiotics she had to take after a run-in with a foxtail. There's another thing she hated, she hated that camping trip where she picked up the foxtail. Anyway, the day after her birthday we all woke up and she was still not herself except that she asked to go out and lie in the sun. She was resting peacefully in the sunbeam when she passed on. After that we spent all our waking moments trying to do things that she never did with us, not at home seeing the empty spot on the couch, in her bed, on the deck. So that meant I was not near a computer to do my 23 things and now I'm I don't know how many things behind. Then when I was back at the computer I had a bunch of SCA (Society of California Archivists, not Society for Creative Anachronisms) things to do. But now I'm back to 23 things. I've got a few partially composed blog entries from before life changed, I'll start there and then try to catch up with you all.