My Dog, an Old Friend

A few years back, I had a wonderful pet dog. She was a black lab and a very good and loyal friend. If I was sad, she would lay next to me and comfort me. I never felt scared when she was around.

Then, at the age of 14 (very old for a dog), she died. I was so lonely after that. I didn't quite know how I was going to cope with it. Everything seemed so hopeless. I would think back to the day when she walked right in the door, a stray. She just walked right into my life, now it seemed as if she had just walked out.

Then one day, while I was thinking about her, I had this weird feeling that she was still here. It felt as if she was waiting at the door to come in. I figured that it was just me wanting her to be here that made me feel like this. I tried to brush it off, but I couldn't. The feeling was just too strong.

So I got up and went to the big, sliding glass door and peered outside. I saw nothing. There wasn't even a rustle of leaves from the wind to liven it up out there. All seemed dead. I felt disappointed inside. But I still felt like she was there. So I opened the door anyway. Then, to my joy and amazement, a huge breeze of cool air swept into the room. It was her coming in. I felt happy and sad at the same time. I was able to get over the loss after this. I guess she was there to comfort me after all. She found a way.