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>R.I.P. Buster

> Our beloved Buster died last Friday, just after he attained his majority–he was twenty-one. That’s the guess, anyway–he came into my life when Betsy Hearne, out with her dog, saw him in a Chicago park for two days running and brought him into our office. For me. (If Betsy Hearne ever suggests you do […]

>Grandma was right

>Stick to the path, she said. But she didn’t have Buster with her this morning. Dragging her off the path. Into the deceptively spring-like woods that concealed floors of ice. Causing me to fall three times (seven, if you count the slips I kept having trying to arise from the last one). I’m thinking of […]