Thunder and rain and Lupine asleep on her blanket in the living room with me having pulled in all her belongings as she tapped on the glass of the door. It is reassuring to have her near to have animal near, to feel the comfort of silence, and her presence. I lap it all up while it is here before we both head out on a long journey without one another in person. My therapist said to me I can talk to her all I want in the car wherever I go and even show her things, and my dog trainer wrote about the energy she moves into that is a freedom from earthly cares and driven by instinct. All of these words are a kindness to a breaking heart, over and over breaking as I feel her tenderness, wipe the honey stain off of her legs where I place the tincture, that she had on her so she could enjoy something other then the taste of blood in her mouth. I tell her I feel blessed to wash her legs, and to just be able to serve her in the ways she has served me so patiently waiting in a car or wanting to jut out onto a meadow rather then drive by it. All the things dogs do as company for our lives and how they adapt. I think about my own impatience waiting for her to find a place to pee when it is cold outside but it is nothing compared to her sitting in the car when I go to yoga and there are birds, cats, and things moving in front of her in the form of smell much like a drive in movie of the senses that a dog wants to have more then 3-D glasses for or simply virtual. But she and I have had those palpable days wet like today, and together. We have had the luck of being rural, and her being able to be with me when I work rather then wait many hours before seeing me or a break for a walk only at lunch. She has has dog pals and a river, and mountains, fall leaves, and fresh spring water and today she has rain, comfort and clean paws and I have her.