December 2, 2009
As I stepped outside this morning, I was met with a wintery blast of cold. The kind of cold that sinks immediately to your bones, where your breath seems to freeze in midair. The sounds of a typical morning were absent as a light snow fell and the world was still and quiet.
While walking the pathway to the barn, I looked out over the pasture and was reminded of a photo I took a couple of years ago. The vision before me exactly the same, as if it were that moment, with the exception of one thing. 
I stopped and stared for a long time, standing alone in the cold, and tried real hard to see what was no longer there, all the while imagining a dog, whose fur was as white as the snow falling, looking back at me.
Kelly … my heart goes out to you. Having known you and your family, including the dogs, and having sung Ken K’s Bulldog song many times, there is a special place in my heart for what you have been going through. And what is also so weird about the timing of this is that while you were making the decision you did, I was being diagnosed with kidney cancer, having a tumor of 5 cm that just 2 1/2 weeks ago decided to finally make itself known.
Fortunately for me, and I can’t express how grateful I am to God above, my surgery went great, they were able to remove all of the cancer and I am now cancer free!
Dogs are special and one of the sweetest smiles I received when I got home from the hospital was from my little mutt Clapton. He brings a smile to my face everyday … I’m sure that memories of Cain do the same for you.