Dear Dodger, I can’t believe you are gone. I wake up and expect to see you lying next to my bed or sitting looking at me because the baby is crying and you want me to get him and take care of him. I can’t bring myself to vacuum up your fur that still clings to my couch and sits in tufts on the floor. Yesterday when I ran with Jax along the trail, I felt you with me. I kept looking at my left side, expecting to see your sleek athletic body, muscles working, running and pulling me. You always pulled no matter what - even when you had to wear a gentle leader. Always wanting to go faster, your enthusiasm could not be contained. Even though I couldn’t see you physically there, and wished to have just a glimpse of you, I felt your presence. It’s like you are with me right now as write this. If I turn away from the screen you will be right next to me lying in the sunshine, ready for whatever we are doing next. But I dare not turn around because I would rather dream of you there then see