Released

For as much as the whole internet talks about being blocked when something happens that they haven't written about but need to you'd think I'd quit putting shit off when it blocks me. You'll understand, I'm sure, when you find out what I'm talking about.

Dear Yin Yang, aka Yinnie, was hit by a car just off the curb in front of her home about two weeks ago. That kind of scenario is something that sprinted through my mind when I walked a big dog on a long, retractable leash and it's one that jumps out of my brain's closets to terrorize me now that I have a bouncy, easily hidden little dog. This is also the second time this year that a friend has been present at the violent, car-related death of their dog. M, Yinnie's person, is crushed but made it to the park this weekend looking for recommendations of rescue organizations. She's too lonely not to at least be meeting new dogs.

One good thing came of this horror. M discovered that it's illegal to bury pets in New York City so she searched for a different solution. (Apparently keeping your dog's ashes in the living room next to the chess set isn't for everyone. Who knew?) She was able to inter Yin Yang in a wonderful place, The Hartsdale Pet Cemetary and Crematory, in Westchester County, billed as "America's first and most prestigious pet burial grounds." She told me that the location is beautiful and the experience, while devastating, was made gentler and easier by the people at Hartsdale. I look forward to taking a field trip up there soon with a still very much alive Eddie to honor the dogs buried there and say a quick farewell to the Yinster.

Treats for everyone, please.