The passing of a gentleman.
My old friend and confidant Mlle Jenny is watching her old golden slowly die. He’s stopped eating and drinking, and Jenny suspects his time is near.
A lot of people believe dogs have no souls. This is the utterest bullshit I have ever heard. The lowest street dog has more soul than the average bureaucrat. I fully expect that Gus will be romping in the fields of Eden soon, falling asleep under shady trees and dreaming of chasing otherworldly rabbits.
For a human, I would ask you to pray that his soul is prepared to be viewed by The Lord. For a dog, all I can ask is that you pray he goes peacefully and in no pain.
Don’t make me come and make you do this, I will fuck you up.
Update: A picture of Gus, the Good Boy.
