It's the Little Things

It's been more than a year since Reacher crossed the Rainbow Bridge. And there are still so many things that remind me of him. 

There are the obvious signs like his leash and collar still hanging by the deck door. And pictures of him that pop up as memories on my phone or on Facebook. There's his name in black marker I see on the bottom of  a food dish, if that's the one I happen to be using for Vega that day. I know some of his hair must still be woven into a carpet, upholstery, or blanket.  

But there are invisible reminders, too. The other day, I spotted one of the neighborhood deer lying in the exact spot Reacher would post himself in the front yard as he surveyed the action on the cross street at the bottom of our hill. And every time I see my neighbor in his backyard, I remember the way Reacher used to rush to the fence announcing his presence loud and clear in hopes of a treat tossed his way. And tonight when I returned home, the belongings in my work portfoilio weren't strewn across the hallway even though I left the closet door open. That was Reacher's MO. 

The Boxer I saw clowning at the dog park had all the markings and fun-loving attitude as my boy. I knew it wasn't Reacher, but it looked so much like him in his younger days.  

Reacher's no longer here. And he's not coming back. But I still feel his presence in the little things almost every day.