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.

2-day-old baby reminds me that miracles still happen every day
In bad times, human nature starts looking for some new scapegoats
If there are exceptions to free speech, it’s not really free speech, is it?
Will a mechanical body allow you to live forever in a few decades?
What do you really want in life? Believe actions, not empty goals
X-ray scanners used by TSA banned in Europe over health concerns
A president can be dictator if he claims it’s for national security
My reaction to man’s home taught me more about me than about him