Ode to Opus

Sadly, I lost another canine friend today (see also this post). Opus was an awesome and happy beagle with the softest ears in the history of the universe. I liked that he didn't piss my cats off and that he didn't realize that he wasn't a very big dog. His clear bent for adventure was evident in his many escapes from the backyard on 34th Street and the many friends he'd accumulated throughout the neighborhood. Everyone knew Opus. I'm still embarassed that I'd presumed that Beth had named him Opus because she enjoyed classical music, rather than as an homage to Bloom County. On the few occasions when I was temporarily in charge of walking Opus, we had wonderful conversations in which we discussed the nuances of the various aromas we encountered along the way. Okay, I admit it, I couldn't actually smell a damn thing, but it seemed really important to him to compare and contrast the various aromas from one yard to the next, one block to the next, one tree to the next, so I just went along with it. Opus, I apologize for faking it.

I hope you will forgive me. I shall overnight you an assortment of the finest biscuits to doggie afterlife immediately.