In Memoriam

My aunt's dog, Snookie, died the other day. She was fourteen years old, drooling like a beagle, and barely able to walk anymore. I never got to know her as well as I would've liked — I don't see my aunt more than once every couple of years — but I know she was a sweetie who could reduce a grown adult to coddling baby-talk and kissing her shaggy face. Snookie will be missed.