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.

Without real human connection, we’re just living in a simulation
We often don’t see who loves us until it’s too late to be an option
Sad, but true: Neither Ron Paul nor any libertarian has chance to win
Please be patient with my site as it’s being completely remodeled
How would we see the gang war in Texas if the faces had been black?
We’re neither friends nor enemies, just strangers who share the past
Psychiatrist’s insight might be link between spiritual, material worlds
The moon represents what I seek, but words are all I can offer now