I came across this photo of a practically newborn Gus at our veterinary clinic. He must have been less than eight weeks old, and at that point, I was meeting Robin Gibbons at the vet with her dogs.
Tomorrow, we head out in the morning to Brattleboro, Vt. to meet the truck that is bringing Bud to us from Arkansas.
It’s not rational, of course, but it feels a bit of a betrayal to get a dog that replaces Gus. That feeling will fade once Bud gets home and settles in.
Gus was born cute and died cute. Odd that I came across this photo tonight.
Bud is coming to you because of the great love you (all) had for Gus. That’s what I think anyway.
I felt the same way when we got our 2nd dog. I always told my first dog that she was my only puppy. When adopting the 2nd dog I kept thinking of this. But to soothe myself I would say dog #2 was 9 mths. old and not a puppy of 8 wks. Same breed, same color, same disposition. How lucky we were to find her!!
Maybe Gus was sending his blessing.