… to everyone who wrote in and overwhelmed us with messages of condolence regarding the late Shadow. Time doesn't permit writing individual replies to each and every one of you, although you have touched my heart deeply. So thanks go out to Steve Kallis (and I would imagine the Humane Society thanks you, too), Jeff in OKC, Jason the poolman, Richard Abowitz, arm53, detroit1051, Frank P., William Heckel (check out his Web site), Jinx (ditto), Aaron, Jim and smudger.
The apartment still seems very empty without Shadow's graceful — if sometimes surprisingly obstreperous — presence. Her brother, Mr. Bit, needs a lot of comforting. Fasolt is pretty much the same as ever.
Eventually the painful memories will recede and the good ones will take their place. Right now it's difficult to visualize Shadow other than as I last saw her, lying on the veterinarian's table, emaciated and misshapen, with her stomach bloated by the tumor. Her eyes seemed to say, "Let me go," but you're never adequately prepared for when they bring her back with a catheter sticking from her forearm, let alone for when you have to tell the vet it's OK to administer the lethal injection.
However, Shadow was in the extremely ethical hands of Mountain Vista Animal Hospital, one of Las Vegas' greatest assets. They could have strung me along with false hope and thereby milked my bank account dry, but they were most candid about the gravity of the situation. Thanks to them, Shadow's suffering was relatively brief. I hope I'm so fortunate when it's my turn to shuffle off this mortal coil.
In the meantime, it's a little difficult to give a rat's patootie about what's happening in the casino industry. I'm sure you understand why.
Besides … the fallout from last week's blog meltdown continues to descend. Our linking capabilities are temporarily kaput and the photo library has vanished. Hence the somewhat gray and bare-bones look of S&G these days. Darn, and I have this great screencap of Edward Quartermain looking for all the world like Sheldon Adelson …
