TRIGGER WARNING: pet death

A week ago, my beloved corgi Zero was diagnosed with inoperable metastatic cancer.

I never know how to talk publicly about my personal struggles. Which might sound odd for a writer, but I find it easier to express pain via narrative, using metaphor to inch around a topic without ever touching the red hot center that burns. But there aren’t any metaphors for losing my baby dog. No artful way to say I’m heartbroken or safe distance from which I can describe my loss. I’m standing smack dab in the middle of this thing and it hurts.
So instead of trying to explain how much Zero has meant to me, I tried to capture him in a painting. He’s a sweetheart. Calm, curious, loyal and trusting. He’s well-behaved and quiet, friendly and cuddly – very, very cuddly – and the most loving pet I’ve ever had. Literally every painting I have ever posted online was created with him lying beside me, usually touching me. He’s lying against me now.

I’m going to miss you, Little Man. Thank you for thirteen wonderful years. I love you.