RIP Hooper

Our old friend is gone. Courage sucks but somehow we managed to summon enough of it last night to give one last gift to our dear friend. We debated and agonized and cried and planned and looked for any way out. There was none. The Scientist said that Hoop D would tell him. By the time he got home from work yesterday, we both knew that he was doing just that in any way he could. He had stopped walking the day before and never regained either the ability or desire. His eyes pleaded with us and apologized to us and we knew we owed him something we just didn't want to give.

We loved on him and rubbed all over him and lay on the floor with him in the office. He was much more calm and peaceful than we were. I tried in vain to summon whatever I had so that his last memory of me wouldn't be anxiety and grief. He looked at me with glassy eyes, as if to say, "I did a good job, didn't I?" Oh, yes, dear friend, you did.

In the end, he went to sleep in our arms and seemed to breath one final sigh of relief and thanks.
No regrets. No guilt. Just grief, and heaps of it.

Somewhere, right about now, my Rosie Posie isn't believing her eyes or her dumb luck. She is probably demanding to speak to the management and is hissing, "How'd YOU get in here?!" Keep it civil until we get there, guys. We'll be the ones carrying the fribee and the tennis ball. See you then....