Some memories make us laugh, and some memories make us cry. Either way, they remind us of something we loved. When the irises began to bloom around Stinky Wink's grave last month, floods of memories washed over me. I still cannot take a shower without seeing him sitting at the bathroom door, waiting for me to throw a toy down the hall. I hear him when my wife would come home, and I would say "Mommie's home!" He would bark and whine and run to the back door. Even the last night of his life, when he was lying in his bed, so sick he could barely move, he still managed a weak "Woof!" when my wife came in. I remember his antics when we went walking.

The carpenters just finished our deck about three weeks ago. How Wink would have loved it. He could have lain at any spot and seen a thousand feet in any direction. He loved to watch people and things...and other animals. He seldom interacted, except for occasionally chasing a rabbit until they slipped through the fence. Later in his life, he got onto that. He gave a cursory chase, stopping about halfway, as if to say, "They know who's boss. Why run all the way to the fence when they're going to get away anyhow?!" The older I get, the more I understand his philosophy!

I still miss him so much, and I am thankful I have two little guys here to remind me of what furbaby love is, and how it soothes aches and pains, and brings sunshine into gloom...and makes memories. They are helping to make new memories--memories that will go into the book in my heart which already holds memories that are such an important part of my life.

Thank you, Wink, for making those wonderful memories with me. I love you, my besses puppo!