John was deliriously happy to be home. He ordered a pizza and invited a couple of neighbors. I went to his house at 8 p.m. to walk Buster for him. I helped him locate a package of Xanax and he took one because he felt anxious. He said it helped him. I walked Buster and came back and sat on a chair next to his bed and we were talking. He was sitting on the edge, feet on the floor. Then he put both hands up to his face, covering his eyes, and cried out oohhh ooohh and fell back and died.

I wasn’t sure, I tried to get him to respond. I looked for his phone, couldn’t find it. I ran back to my house and got Ed, who confirmed John was gone. We called 911. The 911 operator insisted we ease John to the floor and do chest compressions. So we did that, following the protocol. But it was too late. The EMTs came. The police came. We called his son, Scott.

We brought Buster home with us. Scott doesn’t want the dog because his “fiancée”, doesn’t like him. But it isn’t going to work. Buster chased after Max and barked. Max is hiding out. I will try to find Buster a home.

I am feeling extremely anxious about the animals. I can’t sleep. I am a mess. And I miss my friend.

xx, Teal