Regular visitors may have noticed that Atticus stories and pictures have … well, they have disappeared. Atticus, that plucky little Cavalier, graced my life for three months. Whenever I think of the pandemic in the future I will recall it was time spent with Atticus and I watched him mature from a four-month-old puppy to a seven-month-old, nearly dog.
Do not despair. Atticus is fine. He has returned to his breeder, the lovely Rosalind and her fiancé Jeff. As it turns out, she never really wanted to part with him in the first place so my decision to relinquish him is a boon for her and him.
I will not sugar-coat the situation—having a puppy at the age of 72 is a real chore. I do not recommend it to anyone of my demographic. I knew this going in but the circumstances were such that it seemed something that was meant to be.