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.

What’s at the root of objections to real freedom? Paternalism
Do I oppose rulers because I hate rulers — or because I hate rules?
Cat’s ordeal reminds me that bad things happen right under my nose
All sides rushing to assign blame in theater shootings only leads to error
What does a man confess about himself when he wants a ‘slut’?
Love drives us mad, but madness rescues us from ‘horrible sanity’
When it comes to politics and race, double standards are everywhere
Corruption trial prosecutor wrong: Power is for sale to highest bidder