Leo came home today. His ashes, anyway.
Sometimes I swear I still hear him, the jingle of his collar. The other day I nudged the Bally that was still sitting under the couch. It's still there. It'll be there 'til I leave here.
I know where Leo's ashes will wind up. A few places, I think. The park. The campsite. An urn on my mantle, and on L's.
And in 2 days I need to summon up all of his courage and strength, and maybe even a little of his ferocity, and defend my thesis. He got me through writing it. Now I have to get through talking about it without him.
He's in there, though. I probably have one of a very few theses that thanks a dog, posthumously. But then again, he wasn't any dog. He was Leo.
