The story of my most prized possession is a difficult one to tell because there are many things I prize quite highly. I’ve never been able to choose a single thing I love more than all others.
As a kid, whenever someone asked what one thing would I grab if my house were burning and I was forced to flee, I always answered, “Puppy and Blankie.” (They’re exactly what they sound like – I know, I was so creative as a kid.)
Puppy was a gift from my dad and I’ve had him for longer than I can remember. We share a telepathic connection, and he has always been there to comfort me when I needed it. Despite his advanced age – 210 in dog years – he doesn’t look half bad. Oh, sure, his hat is missing, and he’s had a few surgeries over the years (he’s had several nose jobs, plus open heart surgery and a spinal fusion)*, but his heart is as big as ever. And even though he no longer goes everywhere with me…
I went upstairs to put the boys to bed a little after 8:00 p.m. and the sky was dark. Like middle-of-the-night dark. Given that it’s been staying light till somewhere around 9:00 p.m. lately, this was odd. But it had been raining, so I didn’t worry too much about it. I had just started reading Fox in Socks when the emergency alert went off on my phone – a tornado warning had just been issued. I hollered down to Seymour to find out what was going on and he said he’d check the radar, so I went back to reading. A couple minutes later, Bubbles thundered up the stairs and said we were supposed to head down to the basement.
Suddenly they all died. The end. 