Remembering Joe ...

Last night a friend told me their dog, Joe, passed away. I enjoy dogs -- but Joe was one of the sweetest I ever met.

He stood quietly waiting to be acknowledged and introduced on my first visit to the house. After joining me in the chair, a snug but not invasive fit, he strokeded my thigh (not my elbow, attached to the arm and hand typing away madely on the laptop) with his paw for attention. During a pause for inspiration, he sighed -- loud enough to remind that a scratch was due, but not so loudly as to break a train of thought.

The next visit he joined me at the dinner table warming my feet, but not begging for scraps. A nice warm dessert tea is just that much nicer with a beagle warming the feet ...

I came back many more times. On some visits I brought friends who were immediately and warmly welcomed.

He had the softest, velvety ears to stroke. He invited interaction, but never demanded it. The eyes were deep -- knowing ... yet questioning -- leading. They didn't pry, but easily facilitated an opening of the soul to create and enjoy.

Go into that long night softly and tenderly, dear friend.