The past few days have been really tough with my broken head, and he really helped to keep me a touch more upbeat. Dogs force you to take responsibility and go out to get some exercise. Rusty also made me talk to strange people a lot (Yes, sorry, that little one is mine. Yes, he has had the snip. Honest. Even though he's...oh no, Rusty! Not the poor dog's face! At least get the right END even if you can't get the right sex...) which is something I love doing, but isn't too easy to do when your broken head is telling you that the world is crumbling apart.
I might sort of miss him. Maybe. But then I can't decide if I love this or hate it:
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