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PostSecret of the Week

I know the feeling, guy.
I thought I was still going to get to see a lot of Bo for at least the remainder of my life, that we would spend a lot of time together in my dreams. I was actually counting on that consolation, but am sorry to say that Bo has come to me in my sleep in only the merest fragments of dreams. It must be my fault, because he could hardly stay away from me before. Maybe I should keep a doggie biscuit under my pillow.
I miss you, buddy.
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I don't get to see poor old Chomsky very much in dreams either, but I do like to think he's in safe hands. I hope my late best friend Andy is looking after him; they'd get on.
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