I Want You Back

Dear Barron,
It has been almost a year since you died.  I think of you every day.  In some way, you come to my mind.  Yesterday while out on a walk I saw a yellow lab that looked much like you.  He wasn't as light as you were.  But he had that same wide head that you had and he had that same light in his eyes.  But his light was not shining for me.  I miss you terribly.
Harlow is good.  She really is, but you never thought that she would have to take care of me, so you didn't show her how.  She doesn't know when I am crying.  She doesn't know to get up, seek me out and put her heavy, heavy head in my lap.  She never needed to do that because your head was always there.
Sometimes, when I miss you more than usual, I pretend that I can feel your weight against me.  Harlow does lean into me, lay against me, press her obtrusive nose into me.  It isn't the same though.  Just isn't.
It has been beautiful out and I have been on some walks lately.  I see people out with their dogs, happily on a leash and I miss you.  I have completely given up on Harlow.  She doesn't want any part of the walk and it is no fun for either of us to get stressed out.  She just thumps her tail on the patio when she sees me come home. 
Remember when we would go for walks and you would get five or six feet in front of me, then circle back around.  I loved how you always made sure I was near by.  Are you still near by?  Is doggy heaven like people heaven?   Do you ever stop chasing the endless supply of tennis balls to look for me?  Do you ever come trotting up to the window of the world and seek me out?  And does your tail still wag for me?
Harlow is getting old.  She takes just a little longer to get up.  The steps get tricky sometimes.  There are moments when I worry that she is unsure of where she is.  Sometimes her expression tells me that she is not sure who we are.  I have promised her that I will keep her happy and dignified for as long as I am able.  I will try to show her the patience that she deserves as she gets older. 
You know, the next dogs we are getting are going to be little.  I want no part in that.  I have heard all of the reasons for little dogs, but it doesn't matter.  I want that weight on my lap when my heart is hurting.  No one can do that like you, but it will take a big dog to come close. 
I could go on and on with you, about you.  Such a good boy. 
Harlow and I will do some yard work today.  You loved yard work day.  She will drag that tree limb to where ever I need to rake.  She will plop down, completely unaware of the work that needs to be done.  She will let the wind flap her ears and she will roll her newly washed coat in the leaves.   And between her overwhelming joy and my little bit of sorrow, we will consider it a good day.