No offense to endings or beginnings, but I've got an ending of my own to contend with. My dog, Roxanne, died this past month. Back in April I wrote a post about my perfect writing day, in which Roxanne took a starring role: http://yaoutsidethelines.blogspot.com/2011/04/my-perfect-writing-day.html.
Now I have to learn how to write without a dog. I haven't had to do this for twelve years. It's an adjustment. The desk is the same, the honeyed tea steaming in the mug. But the house feels different: quiet, without the clickety clack of nails or the soft snoring of a sleeping hound. People have asked "Are you getting another dog?" And while the thought of a new pet is tempting, the fact is that it wouldn't fulfill the need I have in me right now: the need for a specific dog, my dog. The smelly one-eyed basset hound who sang like Chewbacca and curled up beside me as I wrote both of my books.
I will need time to adjust. As writers, aren't we constantly adjusting to the circumstances that surround us, trying desperately not to let it adversely effect our work? But I am lucky that I had the benefit of that dog for as long as I did, and that she didn't mind napping through the clickety clack of my keys on the keyboard.