11 years

11 years old. That's how old he would have been tomorrow. The past 3 years I've just had memories. Well in Feb it'll be 3 years. What ever. They never live long enough. I'm told it's better to have loved and lost than not at all. Right about now I don't know about that.

Tonight I think my folks and I are going to Plymouth. Where I took him when he was a baby and I'd first gotten him. Mum wanted me to name him Russet. After his coat color. I named him Regal after his attitude. And he was. Until the moment he passed. He was always regal. He was my heart dog. And it broke into a thousand pieces when he died. I'm still putting pieces back together.

This house he was never in. He never got to see me doing 'better'. He lived through my crashes, my suicide attempts, my hospitilizations, my attempt at college, we had an apartment together for a short time, he taught J everything he knew about taking care of me.

He was my best friend. He was my best dog. I miss him, a whole hell of a lot.