I was walking up the street at our old home town toward our old house. Robbie came running down the road barking. He ran up to me panting and I knelt down to pet him and noticed he had a foxtail in the fur of his foreleg. I pulled it out and we headed up the road together.
It was such a nice dream. He was healthy and happy, and strong.
A little gift from God. That's what I think of this dream.
I haven't done a lot today. I was going to work on my novel, but just didn't have the heart for it. I am hoping tomorrow will be better.
I find myself getting up from a chair or entering a room and looking around to see where Robbie is. And when I ate lunch, I automatically left the last few bites to give to him. But he wasn't there.
I couldn't eat them. They belong to Robbie you see.
It was our little agreement. . . Give the last bits to the good looking Sheltie.
What am I going to do with them now?
It's those little things that get to me.
Sigh.
Tomorrow is another day.