It is the end of the Faye era.

Faye–whippet prime, succumbed to a digestive problem and had to be euthanized.  Being unable to absorb a critical protein, her muscle mass wasted away until she became immobile.  It was heartbreaking to watch, as up until the end, she wanted to be a whippety whippet and go running.  But as the pain eroded her humor and patience, the whippet we knew had already started to depart.

I buried her during a week of record-breaking rainfall, which seemed appropriate, alongside Tori, who had just passed the prior autumn.

Faye was a symbol, that Liz and I were deliberately choosing a life together.  We moved into an apartment, and shortly thereafter purchased Faye.  At the time I had no idea what a whippet was, but it sure set a precedent.  Faye was amusingly regal at times, yet still doggy at others.  And when the kid was born, an innate and deeply-buried instinct kicked in and she became the family guardian, growling at people she didn’t know.

She moved with us through three apartments, and finally got the house and whippet patch she deserved.  The timing was fortunate, as we can now lay her to rest in her own land.

So long Faye.  Say hi to Tori.


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