Quietly Searching

I know when I leave the dogs are always looking. And I get a sense they continue to do that for my mom. I used to take them over to her place every day, or almost every day. And before her hip surgery last spring, they would bound into her place, tails going over the tail-speed-limit, looking for my parents. Now, when I go they wait in the car, and certainly know from my sighs and tears, something is not right.

Murphy's day.