HE was distancing himself from us, not on purpose, and not only because he had lost his sight and hearing, but because he had started on a journey where none of us were going—not yet anyway.
Sometimes when I woke him, especially those last few days, it was as if he had been someplace and was almost disappointed to be back where he was, being helped to his feet and guided to the door. He dreamed deeply, often running and stopping, sniffing audibly. I thought that in his mind he was hunting, moving in glorious strides as he did in his younger days.
He was never a noisy dog, only barking when a stranger came to the house. Only one time did he bark in his sleep, and it was…