Does not fail — I start making progress on writing, and the thirteen-year-old comes downstairs all upset about mortality.
To be fair, they lost two dogs in the last two months.
To also be fair, it’s 2am, and it’s not unreasonable for me to expect to be able to do some writing.
If I had realized how excruciatingly slow it feels trying to come by a Sheltie puppy, we would have started looking when Wendy died two years ago, instead of waiting until Quinn died two months ago. Then I wouldn’t be entirely without a Sheltie.
Going forward, I am definitely planning on trying to keep at least two Shelties at all times. First off, when we had a pair of Shelties, they seemed to love being together. Secondly, it’ll mean I’m far less likely to find myself entirely Sheltie-lacking.
See, I’ve populated my entire space opera universe with aliens that are basically big, anthro Shelties. The main character’s best friend in my upcoming Entangled Universe trilogy is basically a big, fluffy Sheltie alien. But now my house has no Shelties. And that is sad.
I miss seeing a Sheltie grin every day. There is no substitute for a Sheltie’s grin.
My dogs are more than just friends and family… they’re my muses. They sleep by my side while I write, walk with me while I daydream and brainstorm, and inspire the characters and worlds I write about. They’re my co-workers in a very lonely, isolating career.