It was a week ago today that I brought Stinky Wink home from the hospital. Tomorrow (2/16/12) will be the last of the "it was a week ago" phrases, and that is probably good. My son, Chris, made a grave-stone for Wink, which he gave us last night when we had dinner at their house. It's beautiful and so thoughtful of him. His daughters also helped with it. When spring comes, we'll set it over his grave. I haven't cried yet today, but there is a continual heaviness in my heart. The house never really seemed big before, but it does now. I go from room to room, doing various chores, and expect to see Wink following me. He never let me out of his sight for long. He didn't like to tackle the basement steps much, so he would lie at the top of the stairs while I worked there. As I would go back and forth from the family room to the storage area, I would look up, and there he'd be, waiting patiently for me to come back up. I'd always sit on the third step from the top and we'd have some together time. This morning I noticed that Bruno, Liesel, and Sophie (the miniature Schnauzers next door) were standing in their back yard looking toward our fence--no doubt wondering why they weren't being barked at (one of Stinky-Wink's favorite past-times). I love you, Winker, my forever friend!