I am basically in a state of shock tonight. I cried my heart out already, cried like I haven't done in some time, and probably will do so again. I'm writing this to avoid having to explain it more than once right now because it hurts too much.
My father isn't in a state to give much detail right now, but he had been bird hunting with Luke and Speck, our two remaining dogs, in Maine all week. (If you don't know what I mean by "remaining", I wrote about it on September 18th.) Evidently yesterday they were far out in the woods and Speck followed a noise, and fell from a relatively short cliff. He must have hit his head because by the time my father got to him, he was already gone. My father carried him back to the lodge they were staying at, and Speck is now buried somewhere in the woods of Maine.
I cannot even begin to describe how badly this hurts, and how shocked we all are. And I cannot tell you how intensely I already miss my baby.
After Molly and now Speck, I would say that our Luke ..not to mention my father.. need all the hope in the world.
I don't know what else to say right now.