December 9. That makes it one full month since Mina died. I’m terribly sad today and crying more than I have in a couple of days. I don’t remember every day of the last month; I probably can’t tell you what I ate yesterday or what I did last weekend. But I feel every lonely moment without Mina. I feel her loss keenly and I miss her love and attention and I miss our walks and our talks and simply being together.

Our apartment is colder now than it’s ever been. Mina kept it warm with her wonderful, furry body and her shining bright eyes full of love. My world is a small, empty shell without her. I have no idea what to do about anything.

Earlier I was looking at the picture of Mina in Dad’s family room and noticing how robust and healthy she was then compared to how she looked after the cancer wasted away her muscle and the chemo destroyed her furry coat. I thought about how appropriate it was Dr. Smith was the first vet to say “lymphoma” and how he was there with us at the end of her life. And I thought of how I first met my baby on a cold winter’s day and how I said goodbye on a cold November morning.

Mina, my Mina … my sweetest girl …