I had a dream about Moose (my malamute) last night.
We were in some large Spanish or Italian town with steep-hilled streets and high, tight, stone buildings all around us.
We were taking part in some older, interesting, Christian spiritualist group like the Thin Place with Lilly Lewin, except they met outside in a grassy courtyard-like area.
After the gathering was over, Moose and I left and did our own thing in the town. It was clearly just him and me together. There was no other constant companionship for either of us. Even at the group, I just wanted to hang out with him.
He got me.
Then, all of a sudden, he wasn’t with me anymore. I started freaking out and screaming for him as loud as I could, making a complete fool of myself to all the local townspeople. The hilarious part was…I kept calling him “Billy.”
“BILLY!!!!!!” I screamed and screamed.
Then, I turned and see a little white and gray face pop up by my truck like,
“I’m right here. We’re okay.”
That was the end of the dream.
Everything was okay.
So, this morning on my run with Moose, I felt very sentimental toward him and the time we have left together. He’s eight years old now, so there’s still time, but he is getting old.
I will lose him eventually.
When those you love are gone, you won’t wise you’d reprimanded them more. You won’t wish you’d set them straight or made them more disciplined. You won’t wish you had confronted them with all your unspoken frustrations or resentments.
When loved ones are gone, you’ll only wish you’d shown them just how much they mean to you.
You’ll want another chance to show them just how wonderful they really are.
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