We'll always be together.

It's been 10 years since I last had a dog. Her name was Dottie. A cross between a blacklab and a German shorthair. She looked like a shorthair. Dottie lived for 17 years. Considered very old for a dog her size. And the veterinarian credited her longevity to exercise. Dottie worked out daily. With me. If I ran or walked 10 miles, Dottie tagged along. Almost right up to the end of her life. When arthritis set in. Today, when biking 30 miles, I found myself speaking out loud. ' Come, Dottie.' Yes, I still talk to Dottie. Frequently. Especially when I'm exercising. I feel the presence of Dottie's spirit. The spirit is so very real. I don't give it a second thought any more. Dottie is with me. Always. So I was wrong when I started writing this piece. I momentarily thought that Dottie was dead. Maybe so, physically. But she still lives. And I was wrong when I said her name was Dottie. In the past tense. I meant to say her name is Dottie. In the present tense. Guess that makes Dottie about 27. And I suspect we'll both live into eternity. Together. Come to think of it. All of my loved ones are still alive. We'll always be together. --Jim Broede