White Dog and Steve visited after work and shared dinner with me. Even though we ate gathered over my bedside tray, it was wonderful to give bites of my chicken to White Dog who, sitting at the edge of the bed, actually was AT the table. Not to be rude, White Dog also accepted chicken and cheese (and olives!) from Steve's Greek salad.
White Dog agreed with Steve that it is about being together, not about where! I cling to that thought as I desperately long to be with them at home.