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.