My Dog Who Dies

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I might start looking for a new dog now. Miles was such a lovely dog; can’t think of it now. Hard to handle the death of another. 

It’s easier to handle my own. 

It’s hard to handle perspective: the universe within which I and my dogs don’t matter; the world, within which idiots like Trump matter; my world, within which my dog who dies matters. 

Published by ipeckham

Irvin, now retired, has been teaching writing at the high school and college level for forty years– in Morgan Hill, CA; the University of Nebraska, Omaha; Louisiana State University; and Drexel University. He specializes in and writes about social-class relationships, personal writing, and writing assessment.

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