Wherein a paw reaches out from the great beyond

When Boo died so suddenly this summer, I finally wanted another dog. But I didn't want a female, and I wanted the dog to be as different as possible from Whiskey (our Golden Retriever who died three years ago) and Boo. Thus the tri-color mutt. The strange thing about Thomas is that, as much as I wanted him to be different -- starkly different -- from Boo and Whiskey, that's not how events have unfolded.

Over and over again, Thomas has channeled his predecessors through various actions and behaviors, and kept their memories firmly on the forefront. They're mostly little things, like the way he yawns with a little yelp, hoards rawhides and the expression he gets when he grabs a sock. But the other day, I got a startling example on film.



You know, I couldn't feel anything of Boo that had lingered behind after she died. Until we got Thomas.