Our dear little Zoe died on Tuesday night. She was at least 17, had been blind most of her life, and was mostly deaf. But until the very last day of her life, she trotted around, and played, living her own life in the way she wanted.
I was in Dayton already when she died. Peter said she moaned a little, and he picked her up and held her for a while. He saw that he tongue was a little bluish. Zoe never liked being held, so he put her in a dog bed by his feet, and petted her, and in 30 minutes or so, she died. She was not in pain, and she was not scared.
Peter called Wednesday morning, and I left immediately. I am broken, heart and soul, and the world looks like a gray and sad place. There's no way I could do a show, far away, this weekend.
Here's Zoe and Woody.
Our good old friend. We miss you.