Missing Beebop and then I read this...

We brought our pup home in the summer.

11 weeks old

And he loved doing anything outside. 

2001

Except swimming.  Go figure.  But he dug the snow.  Pun intended.

First snow for all three of my boys

 But most of all, he just wanted to be with us.

Resting after a bike ride

  Which is what we wanted, so it worked out pretty well.

Presiding over summer games

Except when he was pushing you over with his great big bum when he just meant to getthisclosetoyou.

Or when you got smacked in the head with his tail because
he was so happy that he had just gottenthisclosetoyou.

But that face.  And those ears.

Those ears...right there.

It was summer when we brought our pup home, and it was summer when we lost him.

I sat on the floor with him and held his face.
 And stroked his ear.  Over and over.
I swear, if he weren't in so much pain, he would have lifted his head and
cocked it to one side as if to say, "Okay.  They're soft.  But that's enough."
But I just kept doing it as he died.
Telling him it was going to be okay.
Trying to believe it myself.

And so, in the weirdest 'six degrees' I've heard of,
summer makes me think of Bishop and that makes me think of his ears.
And that makes me sad.

And then I read this.  (Get tissues.)

robynarouty.com

Oh boy.

Did you get the tissues?  I told you.

Well, if you've made it this far, thanks.  There's no real reason for this post other than hug your pets.
Go on.  Do it.  Right now.