I played a late show friday night in Stafford, VA (aka BFE), got four hours of half-sleep, and while doing a photo shoot for Mike Holden, my sister called. She had called my parents to wish them a happy anniversary, and they told her that our labrador had declined to the point where he couldn’t even walk anymore, could barely go to the bathroom, etc and that they were going to have the vet over that afternoon to put the dog to sleep. My dad called me later that afternoon to tell me that they had decided to have him put to sleep and it happened that afternoon.
The dog was fifteen years old. Most dogs don’t live that long, but it’s still hard. We got the photo shoots done, but I was barely alive. I ended up crashing in the early evening (7:30) and getting woken up by Courtney right when we needed to leave for the show (9:00). Two three and a half hour sets in one weekend will drain you. Add that to loosing the dog you grew up with, and it makes for a pretty down weekend.
Anyone else have any depressing news to tell me? Let’s get it over with now.