Rutherford

Shoes would float mysteriously to a new spot across the room. Spooky. Holes would materialize in the rugs—no doubt the byproduct of a top-secret communication system with Beijing. Sock pairs simply couldn’t stay married. Too many similarities. That Cheerios box in the recycling bin? It didn’t want to be recycled. Just couldn’t wrap its mind around the whole reincarnation thing. Women’s underwear in poop deposits? Seriously? Can you believe the lack of quality control at these dog food companies? So he said... And given how much we loved him, damned if we didn’t halfway believe him. There will never be another one like you, Rutherford. Our lives, our home—our carpets—will never be the same. We will forever miss you. Rutherford the Beloved Hess April 14, 2006 ~ December 9, 2018