It is difficult to imagine that I am here again. Murdock’s birthday. My fourth without him. This day will always

Murdock loved hot dogs. He had quite an experienced palate, but hot dogs were a winner. I used them for

Recently, it occurred to me that maybe my grief had “leveled.” I think about Murdock every day, more times than

I recently visited Dog Mountain in St. Johnsbury, Vermont, a 150-acre haven, set in the mountains, for dogs and their

Today marks three years since Murdock departed. Three years since he put his tired head in my lap under the

Another birthday for my boy. It’s the third one I will celebrate without the guest of honor. Sometimes it’s hard

As I write this, there is a dog patrolling my yard – at 100 miles an hour – wearing a

Last week, I did a hard thing. I did not foresee that I would still be doing new, hard things

I miss Murdock. Every day, every hour, I miss my boy. But . . . I miss me, too. I

You may have noticed that there is a word I almost never write. A word for which I have developed