Dear Ickey, It has only been eleven days and I miss you so much. All but a couple of those days I've sat outside first thing in the morning, like we did together when you were so sick. It was the last thing you taught me, an old thing I'd forgotten, to love the mornings again. So for you I listen to the birds, smell the grass, flowers and trees, watch for deer, turkeys and groundhogs. Long ago you taught me that the best things in life are worth asking for - asking without fear, without shame. You'd never let anyone forget to feed you or scratch your brisket. I never thought I'd miss you waking me up so early in the morning hollering for your breakfast. Are you hollering at God now? Does he feed you on time? Or do you get to eat whenever you want and never gain weight? You were always so happy with the simplest things. Taking the air on the patio. Skulking through your tall grass. Eating and belly scratches, of course, and playing - with Taz, with Xiao Shieung when he was alive, with neighbor kids who came to visit you at your dad's. Chasing things (the few times you got loose, until we'd catch you and make you stop). We are going to scatter your ashes this weekend, the same place we scattered Xiao Shieung's. Please watch over us. You had the happiest toothy grin that you smiled with every muscle in your head. I hope you are smiling now. Thank you for all the love and all the lessons.