At one time, you walked by my side, trotting faithfully as I held a treat. But now when I look down, you are gone; you are nowhere about my feet. I glance around for your sweet face, with those eager brown eyes awaiting. You’re usually at the door, or sleeping in your bed, and this time I find myself debating—Did you somehow escape? Did I lock the gate?—but then I suddenly remember. Your life had ended, and you ascended, on one warm day in November. Now I sit here alone, with a heavy heart, waiting for the day I recover. Sometimes I wonder if you’re still there, and we’re just out of reach of each other. I hope you remember all the times we shared, as I think about them often. When I recall the day we brought you home, my heart, it does soften.