It’s been quite nice having Ivy around after Maxi’s death – so the house isn’t immediately absent of 4-footed creatures, though Ivy always reminds us of how not-dog-like he is. omg, also we try, always, always to gender people the way they want to be gendered – whatever pronoun you want, we will try (this is especially true of Jeremy’s office where people do have all different combinations of pronouns which are not in traditional alignment with their names and/or biological sexual attributes), but we call Ivy 10,000 times a day by the pronoun “she” when he’s really a he (neutered male). And we had Max for 10 years and always erroneously called her a “he” when her given name is “Maxine” and she’s a spayed female, but also behaved gender fluidly by grabbing any unoccupied blanket, piled it on the ground like a sack of potatoes and enthusiastically humped it in the middle of the living room surrounded by a myriad of sighing human onlookers. This pronoun thing is really hard for us, we are trying. Also, coming from an Asian culture where names aren’t really important (I will go for weeks without correcting someone of mispronouncing my name, because for me, it’s more polite to have my name mis-spoken than to correct someone who is deep, deep into mispronouncing (well, usually misunderstanding – Dora or Dorothy) my name) – everyone is Auntie – which causes trouble. Sometimes my parents will tell me one of their friends is sick or daughter got into Harvard and did I remember them from when I was little and I am like – I don’t know! They were all Auntie.