I woke up in the dark from a nightmare, but you were not there with your reassuring soft warmth and weight against my leg.
We put up a memorial table for you in the house. We’re lighting a candle for you each night this first month so that you can know that we still think of you every day. The candle also gives us something to do with you every day like we used to be able to do with your walks and your meals and your treats and your belly rubs and your hide and seek. The candle is only a light, only a gesture, but it is what we can do.