Before They Go.

I’ve watched the run turn into a jog, the jog into a trot, and the trot into a walk. Age has a way of sneaking through your life, lurking in the shadows, but creeping in nonetheless. What a thing it is to look back on, the way that life has intertwined us together. Who would have thought that a dog could be the cornerstone to someone’s identity. That even now as the gray and white hairs creep in, I still held out hope that the end of this road we traveled together is years and years away.

You used to do backflips in the yard. We used to run up hills and watch the sunset in far off places. We even got lost in a blizzard when you decided to run off chasing deer while the snow storm crashed down.

Those times seem long gone now. Now we walk through flat fields, Moseying through long grass, and sit at the water's edge cooling our feet. I’d like to think that it was all worth it. That between the two of us, there exists some bond greater than the single span of a short life. 

I wonder if we’ll meet again in some long forgotten place. A place where time stands still and the prairie is moved by a slow and slight breeze. I think you’d like that place. I’ll look for you, where the grass slowly sways, and the sun shines through the clouds. 

Wait for me there.