Tuesday was unexpectedly tough, and I cried some more over missing you. I think it might’ve been because a friend posted about the loss of his partner’s dog. It sneaks up on me, still, that visceral sense of loss that was so overpowering the first few days after you left.

I’m still in catch up mode at work, having gone to a capstone intensive last week, which basically kept me from doing my other work for a full six days what with preparations, travel, and time at the four-day intensive. And I’ll be spending the next couple of days also doing follow up for the intensive, reading students’ prospectus and proposal drafts.

motel room
Picture from August 6, 2014.


I’m not sure why I’ve been waking up in the middle of the night (or really early in the morning) a lot in the past few months. While I was still in my library job, I would wake up and stress out about work. Now, I just wake up–either startled by a weird dream or not–and just be awake for a bit. I don’t have a huge problem falling back asleep usually, so if it’s 1, 2, or 3 in the morning, I just go back to sleep. If I wake up at 5 like this morning, though, I sometimes go back to sleep for another hour or so and other times just stay up. I wish I had you to cuddle with when I wake up in the middle of the night. You were always so reassuring a presence, so soft and so comforting. I could pull you close without worrying about disturbing you because although of course I would wake you up, you never seemed to mind and could go back to sleep immediately unlike if I try to spoon Mr. Frog sometimes.

This morning, I woke up from a very strange dream about a smart house and the occult. My dreams often seem to focus on places and people I’ve never met, as this one did, almost as if they’re movies about other people. Sometimes I’m the first-person point of view camera-perspective protagonist, but sometimes my perspective is just like a movie camera in third-person point of view watching other characters and places. My experience of dreams is usually governed by an overarching feeling that may or may not match the manifest content of the dream (and too often that overarching feeling is one of anxiety or uneasiness). And my dreams are often very architectural in quality, focusing on buildings and other spaces in a very deep way (emotionally and otherwise).

This particular dream from which I woke in a bit of a startled mood was about a house that my dream self owned, a large mansion-type house connected directly to a museum type space. The museum didn’t seem to be quite an art museum or a science museum but possibly something in between, like a design and technology one. In any case, it was night time, and I wanted to get into the house, but the power was out (and it was raining outside as well–pathetic fallacy all around!). The museum was open, though, and fully powered. I went through the lower level entrance of the house into a dark hallway. You would think a smart house would have back up generators or something. And here’s where the creepy occult stuff comes in…. The previous owner apparently had been into the occult and had a room in the lower level that was all white with skulls everywhere. I walked by it in the dream and deliberately tried to avoid looking in (of course all the lights worked in that room).

After awhile fiddling around in the dark hallway trying to get in through the security keypad (I didn’t know the pass code), I went into the museum and up a staircase to another entrance into the house. I had the same issue there, of course, because it was dark in the hallway, and I still did not know the pass code for the keypad. During these scenes, at some point I’m also inside the house in some very solidly realized rooms, and there is a creepy feeling throughout. There wasn’t anything particular smart about the rooms I experienced, but that was just one thing I knew about the house in the dram–that it was wired up with all sorts of technology and gadgets and had its own personality. I ended the dream back in the museum, where there are plenty of people still looking at exhibits.

It may be unsurprising that I thought about studying dreams as a researchers when I was in college–in a brief semester when I considered majoring in psychology.

Picture from December 12, 2013.


It’s weird to be out in the world talking to people and not making you pretty much my only topic of conversation. What else am I supposed to talk about? Is anything else worth talking about?

I walked out to the not-too-close restaurant plaza again today (the same one I went to Wednesday night). On the way there, I saw a few dogs out for walks. I love seeing dogs out for walks. It reminds me of you, of course, and how I got to walk with you every day to see the world through your perspective where everything always seemed so exciting even when we did the same walks all the time.

According to my watch, I walked roughly 8.7 miles today. Aside from the round trip to the restaurant, which should be about 3 miles according to online maps, I don’t know how else I managed to rack up almost 6 miles. I did go up and down the stairs on five trips (I’m on the sixth floor)…. I guess that adds up. In any case, since you passed, my activity monitor on my watch has indicated dismally low activity since I no longer walk at least 2 or 3 miles a day with you.

close up
Picture from June 30, 2014.


Today has been going much better because I didn’t have to talk for the whole day and my sinus headaches is gone. Rather than chance the reoccurrence of pain, I went ahead and bought cold/sinus/allergy medicine first thing this morning, and I’ve taken it regularly throughout the day. I’ll probably grab dinner with the other Writing Center staff member this evening and otherwise try to get a lot of reading done. I still need to finish reading this book manuscript to write up a review. And I have a set of six essays to read and score for an award. And I want to get started with Alexander Chee’s Queen of the Night before the end of the week.

I’m missing the experience of reading with you curled up next to me. It was always so wonderful to feel your soft, warm fur next to me while I was already doing something that is one of my favorite things. Your presence and contact just made it that much better. Sometimes I read aloud to you, but you never really seemed to appreciate that so much. I think you were unsure if I was asking you to do something as I droned on. So you would go back to sleep, but you would still try to pay attention a bit in case I mentioned something wonderful like dinner or squirrel.

reading together


I talked for about 8 hours straight today, all through a pretty bad sinus headache, and then I promptly fell asleep for the next five hours in my hotel room instead of eating dinner or doing extra work I had lined up. Oh well!

I just lit a tea candle for you here. I meant to light one for you yesterday as well but didn’t have a means to create fire. I picked up a disposable lighter at the store this afternoon to rectify that issue.

walk smile
Picture from May 10, 2015.


I’m in Dallas for work–providing some writing instruction and tips for students starting their doctoral studies in the doctorate of business administration program. This means Mr. Frog is home all alone with you to keep him company and protect him in the house. :( Now when I’m out of town or Mr. Frog is out of town, we’ll really be lonely without you around.

I lead the session tomorrow morning, and I’m thinking about starting off by introducing myself and projecting your image to talk about how much you were a part of the way I understood and imagined myself as a person for the last twelve years.

Picture from March 5, 2015.


I took a jog around the pond again yesterday, and I saw that the geese are back. The geese were never very friendly to you, especially when their goslings hatched and they were intent on protecting the little ones from you. You just wanted to say hello, but the larger geese would waggle their necks and hiss. We had to skirt their gatherings, even if they spanned the walkways.

pizza coveter
Picture from March 2, 2015.


Today we leapt ahead an hour for daylight savings time. Your internal clock always took a little adjusting to these biannual shifts in time keeping. In the fall, you would wonder why we didn’t feed you on time. In the spring, you would be delighted that we fed you early. I was also amazed by how well you could tell time. You would start staring at us for food two hours before dinner time, but it was always consistently two hours before dinner time. And if we were somehow engrossed in something and missed your usual dinner time by even 15 minutes, you would give up and stop staring at us at that point.

Picture from October 16, 2013.


Today, Mr. Frog observed many squirrels around our house and yard. We’re convinced that they’re getting bolder in their claiming of spaces now that you’re no longer here to protect us from them. They’re definitely hanging out in the garage, and they frolic a lot in the yard now, including by the little frog statue.

Picture from September 22, 2013.


You know I’m all about dogs, but this advertisement for libraries doesn’t really make sense….

Mr. Frog started looking at dogs for adoption online today. We’ll never forget you, but we’ll probably adopt another dog sometime to keep us company the way you did.

Picture from August 8, 2014.


Yesterday was remarkably warm and sunny, and it would’ve been a perfect day to go for a long walk with you.

I may be able to return to the other public library system I was working in last year as a substitute librarian. I spoke with the assistant director yesterday, and she said I can be reinstated contingent on passing the criminal background check again. Hooray! I may get to continue being a librarian after all.

I think I might just be constitutionally unable to be emotionally invested in organizations. I’ll have to watch out for that. But I also am continually baffled at how horrible management can be regarding transparent communications and accountability for decisions. I couldn’t stay in a system that seemed to operate on fear, punitive relationships, and utter disregard for staff.

Today, I’m remembering your corn chip scented feet and the little tufts of fur that stuck out between your toes.

post-hike nap
Picture from July 10, 2015.


For Mr. Frog’s birthday yesterday, I made him cheese and onion quesadillas with a side of roasted veggies.

quesadillas and roasted veggies

After we ate the late lunch, we took a walk together on the spring-like day to the park. There were lots of people out enjoying the warmth, and we passed our neighbor across the street at the corner of the park. It was quite crowded as we walked along the path that we used to take with you, circling the pond once and then coming back home.

We spent the rest of the evening on the couch. Mr. Frog started playing Bioshock Infinite, a game I got as a birthday present, and I fell asleep and napped like I often do for a big chunk of the evening. I got up later in the evening, and we had some birthday ice cream cake. There’s a pleasure to the simple celebrations and time together.

hiking in the river
Picture from July 9, 2015.


It’s Mr. Frog’s birthday today!

In celebration, yesterday I took him out to SeƱor Wong’s (now rebranded SW Craft Bar) in downtown Saint Paul and a performance of “A Man’s Requium” by SEOP Dance Company of Korea at Ordway Performing Arts. The subject of the performance was not particularly celebratory (oh death!), but Mr. Frog said he enjoyed it.

We came home, lit a candle for you, and finished watching the last two episodes of the first season of The Leftovers on dvd. It’s a fascinating if depressing show about a small town three years after a Rapture-type event in which millions of people worldwide simply disappeared in the blink of the eye. Unlike other versions of this story I’ve encountered that have focused on Christian morality and the idea of the faithful and salvation, this show instead is about existential uncertainty, grief, and survivors’ guilt. The first few episodes can be a bit challenging because the narrative unfolds deliberately without a lot of exposition or explanation. I like how it works though–so much that a later episode with some back story felt really out of place to me (and also unnecessary). I love the way the show unfolds characters and their interactions with each other in puzzling ways that always hint at more than is said or done in that scene.

Of course, as with many other things in my world, I saw you in a lot of this show. For one thing, it’s about loss and grief. But for another, there is the enigma of dogs in this show. From the very first episode, dogs appear as feral creatures in town. One mysterious character shoots dogs on sight and says to the main character that dogs are no longer humans’ companions. This altered presence of dogs in a human world bereft becomes a recurring theme in the show as the characters rebuild their lives in the aftermath of the mass disappearance.

body pillow
Picture from July 14, 2013.


I think I’m fighting off a cold or flu. Ugh.

One of my favorite moments of each day is lighting your candle in the evenings. I’ll be able to do that every night now that I don’t work in the evening twice a week.

Maybe I’ll try taking some walks to the park this next week. I haven’t really gone for any walks in the neighborhood since you passed, and even longer than that since you could only make it a few steps down the block since the beginning of this year. I’ll listen to an audiobook maybe or some music and just take some time to revisit the steps we used to trace on a twice daily basis.

Picture from January 31, 2016.


So today is my first day no longer a librarian. Yesterday I had a nice last evening at the library, which was a great way to say goodbye to that life. I got to chat with a librarian who came over from another branch to help out since we’re so short staffed. And I said goodbye to a couple of really wonderful regular patrons.

I’m not quite sure what I’ll do with all this extra time now. It might be more difficult to be home a lot more in this house without you. Maybe I’ll start sketching and painting your portrait.

sleeping paws


I quit my librarian job today. Everything just feels impossible there, and I feel like the leadership is taking the institution in entirely the wrong direction. Not only that, but they are actively dismissive of staff feedback and concerns. These are all things I knew two years ago when I started as a substitute librarian in the system, but I had hopes that there may be ways to nudge leadership in different directions.

I know part of my sense of hopelessness in the system might be related to my grief over your death, but I also had a moment of clarity after yet another frustrating meeting today where I realized that nothing is going to change in the way they need to for a stronger library. Things are only going to get worse with deprofessionalizing the staff and embracing a vision of customer service instead of a learning commons that I think is necessary for a public library that truly values its role in communities as a place to develop literacies, civic participation, and a joy of learning.

I miss you so much, Mr. Giles. I wish I had quit this job months ago so that I could’ve spent more time at home with you in your final weeks.

Picture from January 28, 2016.