I had a poignant and sad phone call Saturday morning. A woman called me from Texas. She found me by looking at my son's obituary from 2 years ago and going to the internet. She was the one who adopted my boy's pug 6 years ago. Dave had to get rid of the dog because they moved into a new house and Bagel wet everywhere. I remember how pleased he was that he found someone to love an 8 year old dog. He and Millie missed Bagel so much. The woman reported to me that Bagel is now 14, quite elderly for a pug, but in spite of some hearing and seeing difficulties, he acted more like 5 than 14. She told me what a nice young man my boy was and that for several Christmases, he'd drop a gift basket for the dog off at their house. This woman and her husband moved from Florida to Texas a couple years ago, and she got in touch with me because her only son, in his 20s, died in Naples last month. We cried and talked together for about an hour. She wanted advice about how to get through today, tomorrow, next week, and so forth. She is lucky to have a 2 year old grandchild and a good relationship with her daughter-in-law. In fact the DIL and grandson are visiting this week for Thanksgiving. I encouraged her to keep that relationship, albeit long distance, alive and well. I also encouraged her to find something she is interested in, volunteer work or whatever that can help her keep her mind off her grief, even for an hour or two at a time. I know that my job saved my emotional life, for I can concentrate on something else for a bit. I plan to call her in a week or so, just to check in to see how she is. I am gratified to hear from someone else who knew my boy, but I am also so grief-stricken for her. I sent a couple of photos of Bagel that Dave had sent me from years ago. I went shopping yesterday afternoon and found a darling Christmas ornament of a pug holding a present, and I think I'll send it to her and Bagel for Christmas. I am so sad.