The other morning after my hubby left for his yoga class (at 5:30 a.m., yes I believe he is crazy), I fell back asleep. When my alarm went off, I got up and went downstairs and there was my sweet little dog Sasha waiting by the door to be let outside. Just like usual.
I went to let her out, and then thought “hey … wait a minute … this isn’t right …” but I decided that since she was there, I shouldn’t question it. Instead I should take advantage and give her lots of hugs and kisses. So, I called her to me and buried my face in her soft fluffy fur and gave her lots of love. I kept thinking she’d disappear, but she just stayed right there and I kept on petting her.
Then, Mike pulled into the driveway and I let Sasha out the door so she could run up to his truck and greet him like she always did.
I followed her out to say “Look! It’s Sasha! Isn’t this great!” … and that’s when I really woke up.
It was bitterly cold a year ago today when we lost Sasha. She was 16 years old, and she’d had a good, long life. I still miss our little fluffer-nutter and expect to see her waiting for me by the door, so it was especially sweet of her to visit me in my dreams.