It’s been six months since I lost Lucy. I like to believe she’s patiently waiting at the gates of heaven — ready for the reunion when I meet her again one day.
I still think about this sweet and faithful companion every single day. If you’ve ever had a dog who you loved, you’ll understand.
When I put the key into my front door when I return home each day, part of me still waits to hear the sound of her tail hitting the door as she realizes I’ve returned.
When I get up in the morning, part of me still feels compelled to get her leash and take her for the first walk of the day — something she loved so much. At night, part of me wants to take her for one last walk before bed, because each walk made her so happy.
But I can’t do those things, because the World’s Happiest Dog isn’t here anymore.

Autumn scents send subtle signals every year that it’s time for change
Correcting an old error: there’s no such thing as ‘We the People’
There are lessons for our lives in the joy and innocence of children
‘All animals are equal, but [deaf] animals are more equal than others’
Until you ask the right questions, you’ll never find missing answers
Coming economic hardship may help me understand Aunt Bessie
Taking a break from Facebook is a step to retake control over my life