I Think I’ve Been Here Before
I’m pretty sure I’ve walked this path before, two or three or a dozen times or more. And I’ve taken this picture, when the dog was a different dog, and I was probably a different person too.
Killian hasn’t thrown a gray hair yet, and to say that he is an exuberant, puppyish participant in the game of “come!” is an understatement. But there’s something terribly familiar and maybe a little sad—as all truly beautiful things probably are—to have the same whistle bring a different, younger dog back to you than it used to.
Murphy’s grays are there, and it seems like there are a few more each time I look, though his lighter fur makes it much easier to forget them for a little while. And his bounding paws make it even easier. He of course, never bothers counting days or years—and certainly never gray hairs. He’s just glad to be with me on an adventure, and I too am glad to be on one with him and his brother.