This was one of the happiest days of my life, Wrigley and I in Glacier National Park, June 2019. I can still remember the young black bears playing in the meadow, the scent of wild grass, and the roar of a spring waterfall.

One year ago today, Wrigley died on my lap after being at my side for 12.7 years. Many of you became followers of this page BECAUSE of Wrigley and his unique personality. He’s more popular than I am, haha.

I rescued him from the Chicago pound, along with my good friend Sarah. As we were driving home with him peeking out of his cardboard box, I knew I’d found something very unique. An original.

Since he passed, I have not been able to stick between four walls for long. I’m constantly moving, driving, hiking, taking photographs, writing, traveling, working out, dating. I’m a shark that cannot stop swimming. I have no idea what a couch is. It’s been one heck of a rush, that’s for sure. I’ve been running, I think. Because I know, as soon as I settle down, I’ll have to face what happened. And to face it in a quiet room.

What started out as an adventure with Wrigley in the national parks and forests turned into something else. A way of life, perhaps. A spinning compass of an existence.

Wrigley. You were there at my feet for the start of my writing career, there camping with me under the stars in Glacier National Park. There for me when I didn’t feel so great, always with a smirk on your face.

We did it all. Hollywood to Redwood, Shasta to Glacier. Chicago to Missoula. We were free. Each morning brimming with possibilities.

Perhaps the thing I dread most is settling into some mundane suburb and firing up the laptop to work on a novel. And waiting for the guaranteed noise of you knocking things off the counter. Or unexpectedly biting my toe as I write. And that noise won’t come. And that will break my heart.

Again.

But maybe, just maybe I’ll head to the local pound on that day.

I’ll never forget you.