I keep thinking I'll write an entry to get some of this out but then I keep thinking that I can't bear to write down the words, to have them typed up official-like. There's blood on the newly-painted french doors. A red smear. Peaches is fascinated by the heap of blood-stained clothes in this room. Right now, I'm supposed to be cleaning the house but I can't and I can't not do it and I cannot, absolutely not, lie down and weep. I'll go mad. I'm crazy already.

This morning was my first walk without her. God.

I had just fed her supper last night. We'd just gotten back from our walk. She was like she always was at the end of a walk--running really fast away from me and then turning around really fast and then running really fast toward me. She'd tag me and then start all over again. She was joyful. My heart is broke. I fed her supper and then went to check on Jeff, who's terribly ill. I never saw her alive again. That fast.

The girl had some moves, y'all. She could jive and feint and fly. I can't believe that right and good creature and all her right and good things are gone from the earth. She was funny and weird and stubborn and so full of love. She's our family and she's gone.

Oh Frankie girl, I love you. I wish so goddamned hard that you were here with me.