Part 1: The Morning My Dog Wouldn’t Stop Scratching at the Door

but it didn’t make it easier. Each item felt like a piece of her that had been locked behind a door I couldn’t open. Among them was her favorite yellow sweater. Soft, bright, and cheerful, it had been her go-to on weekends. When she wore it, I could spot her anywhere.

I missed that sweater more than I expected.

Daniel was still asleep upstairs, breathing continue reading …