I say “Hello” when I come home. I say “Bye” when I leave. I know you aren’t there, but I have been doing it for so long, I can’t help myself. I checked the front yard this morning when I took the trash cans out. You always came with me and sniffed the yard. I look for you on the couch or the edge of my bed. I leave the last bite of my sandwich for you. I just can’t eat that last bite. I want to leave the door open for you, but then I remember and close it. When I lost Greg, you were there. We all grieved together. You moved from the foot of the bed to my side. When I had meetings at the house, you would greet everyone. I called you my Byakuren dog. You have been sick for almost a year. I fed you special food - I cooked special food for you. You would get better for a few weeks and then get worse. Then I found a new vet. He tried to help you. He was so kind to you. It was too late. Your blood work showed how sick you were. Your strength and love was so special. But then you stopped eating and barely moved. We knew you were very sick. I knew you were staying in this life for us and it was up to me to help you. You started resting in front of the altar. That last day you were so sick, you hadn’t moved out of my room for many hours. Then you heard me go out the front door to do some yard work. I heard the tinkle of your tags on your collar. You tried to go outside. I stopped you and helped you lay down on the rug in the altar room. The vet was coming. I did gongyo with you and finished just as the vet was getting ready. We kept the front door open so you could see the front yard - your favorite. You didn’t want to go. You were so strong, but it was time to let go and finally you did. You have joined that dog pack on Eagle Peak.

The kids are looking for a puppy. I don’t want a puppy. Puppies are so much work - eat, pee, play, chew, poop - I don’t need that. But I do want a dog. It is different losing you than it was losing Greg. With you, I was there - I was involved. With Greg, it was over before I knew about it. The day after you passed, we went on vacation. I think it was easier that way. We could think about you, but not worry. We will never forget you. You were the best.