I’ve now lost count of how many times I’ve been asked, in the months since my Jack Russell, Chota, died, if I’ll get another dog. And, I should add, it’s almost always a well-meaning query from loved ones, who know that Jason and I are dog people, that dog people find the canine habit hard to quit – and that getting another dog would, most likely, make us very happy.
The first time we were asked was on the day we lost her – about twenty seconds after we’d told an acquaintance that she’d died. And even then it wasn’t meant unkindly. It was just a polite query. A way of making conversation. It’s funny, though: we would never, in a million years, respond to the news that someone had lost their spouse by asking, conversationally, less than a minute later, “Soooo, do you think you’ll get married again?”
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