White Dog, for the early part of her life, spent every night curled in the crook of my knees. As the Army got bigger and all wanted to sleep in our bedroom she took up residence in the office closet "suite" that had once been shy Quinn's. It is a comfortable bed and private and sheltered from the noise and intrusion of the rest of the pack sleeping so close.
In the depths of the last night, WD stopped next to my bed and asked for loving. I reached down, half asleep, and rubbed her soft fur and mumbled to her. I thought she was heading outside.
Instead, she jumped up on the bed like a dancer and curled into the place that will always be hers. She was so dainty that neither Steve nor Sachi (at the foot of the bed by Steve's feet) even awoke.
We did not exchange a word and I did not move for fear of breaking the spell but my heart swelled and tears silently rolled.
In a few minutes I could hear the slowed breathing of her sleep. When Steve awoke in the morning she was gone.