he's passing now. he wanders off. he's always there. this is a place that we grew together in, an island in the city where our magic grew. and it's been managed and handled and it's life reduced to a ghost of the nature that we knew. we've been coming here almost the whole of this dog's life. we've seen it get lush, and we've seen it poisoned and slashed. we've seen the coyote come and missed the coyote gone. 
i can only really talk here. i can't write a letter to the editor. i'm the editor here. i write my letter here, unedited. 
that's all i have to say, i will miss him wandering here. i will miss this place. the magic was here.