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.

Why waste time on Ukraine war? Focus on your own future instead
Despite liberal predictions, ending gun bans didn’t lead to Wild West
Paradox of choice can leave us longing for certainty of the past
If we’re seduced by our desires, we often follow devil in disguise
I accept others’ amateur media, but I expect myself to be a pro
Who was this attractive woman? Why did her story not ring true?
Was I ‘fat’? ‘Lazy’? My father’s ugly words made me feel shame