The Walk

The walk was familiar, same trail, same hills, same trees, same sun, the muddy stream, the prickly bushes, the humans chatting. The scents of grouse, deer, mice and squirrels, the singing song birds and squawking crows.

The same, but different.

Your scent was there. I sniffed the pee places where you'd been. I saw your paw print in the soft mud by the stream.

We have been this way together, but not today.

I imagine your steamy hot breath and your lolling pink tongue. I see your long shapely legs that I've always envied and loved to dance with. I remember trotting behind you, wearing the fluffy white tip of your tail as a hat.

The walk today was different. I am missing you, my friend.

Happy trails to you Howie.