I will admit to having had nightmares these past few nights, the sight of proud Red clawing his way through the mud on his front paws, dragging his legs,  trying to get to me, will stay with me for a long time.

Red has many jobs – the sheep, therapy work, Bud and Maria – but his primary work has always been me, from the very first time we laid eyes on one another.

Red was my dog, from the beginning. He wants to be wherever I am, and his presence has become an integral part of life for me. These past few days, he could not get up to take up his usual position behind my chair.

He has never been on a leash. He sleeps by my side, rides in my car, is welcome at the dentist, everywhere I go. Last night, he managed to get up the stairs to sleep alongside my bed.

Our relation is beyond words, it comes from another place, beyond consciousness,  we are tied to one another in the most spiritual of ways, in the timeless and beloved tradition of dogs and humans.

We never speak, we talk to each other all of the time. He is a part of me.

This morning, he did get into my study, he was in his usual place, I can feel him there. He gave me quite a shock this week, but he is nothing if not stoic and faithful. I hope he gets better. I hope he is well.

One day, Red will not be there, and at least I will have a sense of what it feels like. I will celebrate him and move on. He has not come to make me feed badly, that is not what he is about, it would be a desecration of my time with him to turn him into a misery.

Lire and death, that is the nature of life, he came when he was needed, he will go when he is done. I accept that, on his behalf, on mine. I am glad he is still  here. I  hope he heals and recovers.

Welcome back, pal.