Dogs are part of the architecture of life. They fill some of the holes in our lives, help to heal some of the broken parts, join the structure of our lives. For as long as I have been writing – books, blogs, magazine pieces – there has been a dog around me, usually more than one.

They are part of the architecture of my life, and are essential to my writing. They ground me, keep me from being lonely, support me. Every dog I have had in my writing life has become a writing dog.

That is, they understand that I need silence and peace to work. Lenore sat on the couch in my office before we moved it to the living room. Red sleeps on a bed next to my desk. Fate often comes in to join us in the evening.

They all know to be still in there, there is no playing and I take no notice of them. When I write, there are no dogs around me, and yet there are dogs all around me, they just pick up what I need.

My newest writing dog is Bud, takes up the same space Lenore did, only on the floor. He curls up on the small dog bed and lies absolutely still while I work. Dogs wish to please us, it is how they live.

While I write, I hear Bud’s soft snoring. I am grateful that he has joined the architecture of my office, and of my life. Like the good ones, it  feels as if he has known me for years. And I loved the afternoon light brushing against him as he  rested from an exhausting day.