This is going to be a tough post to write—no easier because I’ve seen it looming for a while.
Lennie Briscoe, the Great Detective, has gone to investigate the ultimate mystery. His spine gave out last night and we just couldn’t let him suffer any more. There are a lot of cold empty places around the house today that used to be warm and philosophically fuzzy.
Omnia mutantur; nihil interit.
I am very sorry for your loss. Lenny Briscoe has brightened many a day for me. I’m sure the Dog Detective is enjoying the Great Mystery.
Thanks for the kind thought.