Today marks three months since Youk crossed the Rainbow Bridge.

We still absolutely love our full-time RV lifestyle, but things are different now.

We’re slowly adjusting, but we do have our moments when a small reminder can overtake us with emotion.  That’s the way that grief works, though.  You never get over it.  You never outgrow it.  You never heal from it.  You simply evolve through it.  Grief is like the ocean waves.  One day they’re calm, the next day they can be rough, no matter what, they’re ever constant.  Whether a pet, a family member, or a friend.  They take a piece of us with them when they leave, but they also leave a piece of themselves with us in the form of memories.

So much of our lives over the past fifteen years revolved around Youk.  Before we traveled full-time, and even more so once we started traveling.  Anytime that we went anywhere, we first had to make sure that Youk would be safe while we were gone.  Running the generator so that we could turn the air conditioner on for him if we were doing something that he couldn’t do with us.  Always checking to see what places were pet friendly so that he could experience it with us.  It’s just what we did.  Anyone with a pet, certainly understands what I’m talking about.

Our life is still great, but now it’s different.

It’s different when I mail a postcard.  I used to sign every postcard, “Love, Dan, Sandy, and Youk.”  Now I just sign them, “Love Dan and Sandy.”  It’s good, but it’s different.

It’s different when I make a campground reservation.  Every campground reservation that I make, there’s a question asking if you have pets.  I used to click, “Yes.”  Now, I click, “No.”  It’s good, but it’s different.

It’s different when we stop at a rest area.  Sometimes we won’t even get out of the RV.  We now generally just go back to use the bathroom, stretch inside the rig, and move on down the road.  If we do get out, we use the doors in the cab of the RV as opposed to the man-door on the side.  It’s good, but it’s different.

It’s different when Sandy makes pancakes for breakfast.  She used to always make the last pancake for Youk.  It’s good, but it’s different.

It’s different when we’re out on a walk or a hike.  With Youk, if we saw another dog, we had to move to the side and make sure that we created some distance because he wasn’t fond of other dogs.  Now we ask the people if we can pet and say hello to their dogs.  It’s good, but it’s different.

It’s different because we don’t have to grab treats or poop bags every time that we go for a walk or a hike.  It’s good, but it’s different.

Every night at 8 PM is different.  That was the time that Youk got his bedtime treat.  If we were one minute late, he was sure to remind us.  It’s ok, but it’s different.

It’s different every time that we drop a piece of food on the floor because Youk isn’t there to clean it up for us.  It’s good, but it’s different.

It’s different at every meal because Youk isn’t there to watch us like a hawk and make sure that he got the last piece of whatever it was that we were eating.  It’s good, but it’s different.

It’s different not taking one out of every three pictures with Youk in it.  It’s good, but it’s different.

It’s different being at a book signing event and talking about Youk in the past tense.  It’s good because of all the wonderful memories, but it’s different.

It’s different traveling with our grandson’s puppy, Cooper.  Both Sandy and I have called him Youk on several occasions.  It’s great to have a canine traveling companion again at times, but it’s different.

Everything that we do now is different.  It’s still good, but it’s different.

Just this past weekend a young couple two sites down from us in the campground had a three-year-old golden retriever named Murphy traveling with them.  I broke the Cardinal Rule of RV etiquette and asked them if I could say hello to Murphy before they had even completed setting up.  Their names were Kate and Kevin, and they were kind enough to allow me to give Murphy some love for a while.  Sandy made her way over shortly after I did and indulged in having a golden retriever in her presence once again.  We had told them that we had just lost our golden boy a few months ago.  They knew that Murphy was helping us in our own healing process.  It didn’t take Murphy long to figure out that these two new friends of his would always greet him with pets and just so happened to have some pretty tasty treats, too.  Several times throughout the weekend, Murphy would convince his mommy and daddy to let him come over to our site to say hello.  We were always more than happy to spoil him just a little bit more than we had the previous time we saw him.  He and Cooper even had a couple fun play sessions.  So much about Murphy reminded us of Youk.  Especially his smile.  We were grateful to be able to get to know him, even if it was only for a few days.  It was great, but it was still different.

We’ll continue to move forward.  We’ll continue to adjust. We’ll continue to evolve.  We’ll continue to be grateful for the 15-plus wonderful years we had with Youk.  We’ll continue to tell people how great of a dog we had.  We’ll continue to have our moments when out of the blue we become overcome with emotion for no apparent reason.  We’ll continue to get glassy eyed when telling a story about him.  We’ll continue to miss him with all of our hearts.

Our traveling lifestyle will continue to be great, however, it is also much different.