Chomsky left us a few days ago.
Chomsky was a consummate traveler; he fell asleep as soon as he got in the car and woke up just 5′ before reaching his destination, whether it was a 15′ or 5-hour trip. Also, he was an expert in terraces; he always directed us to the bars where they served the best pinchos.
His favorite sport was napping, either under my desk or claiming the entire surface of our bed to himself. When Jessica appeared, he became her shadow.
He loved water in all its forms —rain, snow, sea, river, or swimming pool— watermelon in summer and ice cream in any season.
Unable to do evil, he offered joy to anyone who approached him without asking for anything in return (well, maybe a piece of bacon or a kong stuffed with cream cheese).
He was always a happy full member of the family —as nothing was decided without consulting him if it was okay, of course.
Nothing is free; the pain we feel today is the price we pay for the happiness he shared with us every day of his existence.