For some reason I was thinking about Drew this morning at work. I hadn’t spoken to him since I told him I was pregnant, and I was feeling hurt that in the seven weeks that had passed, he never called to ask how I was doing or what my decision on the matter was.
So it felt like some weird twist of fate when I saw that he was texting me on my lunch break. His message said “Hey. I’m sorry. I don’t want to talk about it but thought you should know Isabella passed away this morning.”
Isabella had been our dog. Sure, she was technically “his” dog, but after living with her for six years, I feel like she was mine as well.