Sir Dukamus

Well fuck.

Here were are again. Another loss. Another blow to the souls of my nearest and dearest and not a god damn thing I can do to patch things up.

I’ve decided anyone that says something along the lines of ‘they’re just a pet/dog/etc’ immediately gets on my ‘bad blood’ list. Fuck you people, you are not capable of love the same way we are then and thus, fuck you.

I don’t get close to many people or things, but I can definitely say that Duke’s fuzzy ‘got food for me’ face has been a comfort, joy and band aid for me at times when I most needed it. Best Neph-pup ever. No one else has ever been so excited to see me they peed. Can’t even count how many times his fuzz caught my tears as well as my pets and snugs. I’m blessed that I got to live with him for a bit, have his happy barks to welcome me no matter if it’d been 10 minutes or 10 months since he’d seen me.

I can’t verbalize this loss any better than I’ve been able to Aaron’s. All I’ve got is dark humor. Joking about it is the only way of opening my mouth without screaming. Still find it funny that my agnostic little brain most likes the idea of a conscious afterlife when I don’t want to let go.

Hope you find Aaron, Duke, and when you do, you’re so excited you pee on his shoes.

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