Moments I'd forgotten and will never remember

I feel vaguely like I’m blinking in confusion on my way out of the movie theater or waking from an accidental nap. How much time has passed, you say? Where am I, again?

I am once again thinking about the fact that Scout is going to die. Not soon—not if all goes as planned, if we continue to be so lucky in our lives together—but not in a distant unimaginable future, either. She will die and I will have to go on without her (how?) and my habit of scrolling through old photos, soaking in memories, will feel different than it does now.

It already feels like grief just to realize how much the three of us have changed since I adopted our shy-but-sweet stray heeler. Scout’s body shape has sagged. Her ears and whiskers are graying. Sean and I have new wrinkles around our own eyes.

Of course core parts of our lives are the same—we love each other; we have great fun; we prioritize play—but I still feel vaguely like I’m blinking in confusion on my way out of the movie theater or waking from an accidental nap. How much time has passed, you say? Where am I, again?

All this (*gestures wildly*) is amplified tonight because Sean and I reminisced. Reminiscing itself is …