I just found out that a friend’s dog has stage 5 cancer and he probably won’t make it to Christmas.
Farley is a big galumphing black Labradoodle. He must be about 6 or 7 – he’s a little older than Maia. I remember the day Simon brought him home; he stopped at my parents’ house because he saw my car there and he knew I’d want to meet the puppy. Farley was so little then, the size of a Jack Russell. I remember Simon didn’t have any toys in his truck so he grabbed a sock that was randomly there and I played fetch and tug with Farley on my parents’ front lawn.
I’m going to see him on Wednesday to say goodbye. Simon and I aren’t as close anymore as we used to be, and he lives an hour away, so I don’t imagine I’ll get another chance to see Farley.
Fuck I’m sad.