Rest in Peace, Gus.
As if I wasn’t going to be heartbroken enough when he died, he passed when I was out of town on a work trip — something I knew was a possibility, and had been in utter fear of, for some time. His health really started declining about two weeks ago, and even though he’d rallied a little since then, his age and the fact that he really started to get worse pretty much the second day of my five-day trip meant that I couldn’t disagree with the suggestion was made that the kindest thing to do was to say goodbye to him. I just wish, with all my heart, that I’d gotten to actually say goodbye to him in person. I loved him so, so fucking much.