He came to see me in a dream.

I think we all dream about people who are gone or about our pasts. I do. When I dream about a person who has died, I'm dreaming about them. Even if the dream is fairly vivid and has that real feeling I'm observing them rather than there with them. With those and other vivid dreams I awaken and in a second or two it's clear that I dreamt the experience and when looking at it later there are often tells during the dream letting me know it's a dream. Sometimes I even declare something a dream while I'm dreaming. Not Monday night, though.

My dog who died over 4 years ago came to me in a dream? I was standing in my kitchen and I turned and he was looking around the refrigerator with his question in his eyes. He has such an expressive face, so beautiful and wolven. I kneeled down and wrapped my arms around him, my chest against his side. I put my face on his back and felt his soft fur against my cheek, smelled his familiar scent of wind and vigor and a faint air of smoke. His wet nose nuzzled my neck and I leaned in for a few seconds until he had stood still as long as he could.

He backed out of my embrace and looked at me, at once so bright and knowing and still full of questions. In his brown, soul seeking eyes the question was the question. What will we do with this lovely moment, this all things are possible gift of a day?

When I woke the feel of his back warm against my face and his nose cold against my neck lingered. And his eyes were on me still. Are on me still?

I don't believe anything, so I don't have a handy framework to put this experience in. Maybe he'll visit me again? Maybe he's here with me now, and always has been? Maybe he's waiting for me to come to him? Maybe.

Thankfully, I don't need to put it any place. I can just let it be, and wait for his return.