2020 has certainly been one for the record books, and we’ve got four more months to weather before we roll it over!
I can endure Trump…at least until November 3. I have learned, over the last six months, that I can survive a global, viral pandemic. But something happened a couple of nights ago that brought me to my knees, literally. I was surprised at how hard it hit me.
The best, sweetest dog in the world, Rover Jo, died just before midnight Monday, August 31, in our kitchen, with her head on my lap. After spending 11 of Jo’s 12 years on earth with her, I now understand why someone once called a dog “man’s best friend.”
Read MPC’s full column, and learn more about the dog who left here far too soon for the freelance writer.