I went for a walk tonight, waiting for the sun to come down, with the hopes of a little cooler temperatures to deal with as I did my daily training.

The temperature came down, but the humidity was high, intermittently fogging my glasses. I placed my flashing reflectors on my shoes, and set out to get my workout in.

Around mile two, I was heading out of the newest part of the neighborhood. It was barely light now – the waning sunset was sinking fast, far over my shoulder to the west.

As I went down the dark straightaway, heading toward the main road, I heard the clip of dog nails, and felt a wet nose on the back of my leg.

I kept walking, but turned sideways to see a chocolate lab beside me, falling into perfect heel position. His tail wagged in time, and he brushed against my leg. I gave his head a good scritch, and told him he was a good boy.

“Where are your people?” I asked, just as he faded off to the left. In the dark, he was just a shadow that disappeared into the night.

“Cocoa!” Came a a voice from behind me, hanging in the humid air as I joined the main road. He was gone.

I remembered the miles logged with my chocolate lab, Reese, over the years. We had her seven years, before cancer wreaked it’s havoc and we had to gently usher her over the rainbow bridge.

Tonight, though, I felt the shadow of Reese as I walked my miles. The wet nose, the wagging tail…that was my girl.

Welcome home, girl.