One

 It's been one year since Tiny Dog passed to the Great Beyond. 

Every now and then, I still find myself expecting to hear a bark when I come in through the front door.

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I used to wonder why people noted ("celebrated" is clearly not the right word) the anniversary of the death of a loved one -- wouldn't it be more appropriate to mark their birthday or some happier day in remembrance of them? And yet here I am. Perhaps I'm not ready to let go of the pain of her loss. Perhaps holding on to that pain, is holding on to her in a way. 

Rest easy, Tiny Dog. You are safe inside my heart.