Earlier this week my family’s black lab died. She was ten and a half. For all her life she was squirmy and needy and loving. I would let her sleep on my bed, curled up on the covers against my legs. She loved to run through the fields after sticks or balls, porpoising through the tall grass, and spooking wild turkeys. Even when she was full-grown she thought she was a lap dog. She was sweet and loving and twitchy, and I don’t remember the last time I cried like this. So here’s an abbreviated Friday Morning Music, and a photo gallery of Duchess. I love you, and miss you.