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A dose of teardrop therapy

I needed to reach for my box of Kleenex before starting this column. I promise this effort will not be the “‘bawl-o-rama’ of the ages,” but since I’m in a bit of a funk anyway, well, what better way to vent than to put things in writing?

Many years ago, cousin Chris, who is about my age, chummed around with me when I visited in Santa Fe. Soon, an uncle drove up, and I ran to greet him. But before I got to the car, his terrier leaped up from the back seat and took a chunk out of my chest, right at the nipple.