Missing My Walking Buddy

I suppose I started to write this too soon after Mr. Bear went to the Rainbow Bridge.  He had a tumor that couldn't be removed and so, because he was so uncomfortable and couldn't breathe well, we made the tough decision to let him go.  There was much crying in that vet's office that day.  (And not just by Matt and I.)  Mr. Bear touched many lives.  He was so loving and so sweet, always up to meet someone new if it meant getting petted.  He and I walked every day, almost a mile and three quarters, most days.  Now I walk the routes we used to take alone.
Except, I'm not really alone.  Every now and then, it feels like Bear and Dougal, our previous Schip, are there with me, running ahead, exciting the neighborhood dogs, who don't always bark at me when I go by alone.  It is hard to go when the school bus kids might be out.  They always waited for Bear.  They would be sad to be reminded that he is gone.
It gets better, but it still hurts to know that he isn't going to be there, waiting patiently for me to put his harness on, getting all excited about going out to see what's what in the neighborhood.  It is also hard to come home from anywhere and not look for him.  Hard not to go to the back door and call, asking if he wants to go out.  Hard to leave or to head for bed without checking to see if he's in or out.  Hard to remember I don't need to buy dog food, or treats.
The cat makes up for some of this, of course, as she has an incredibly large personality, but even she misses Bear.  She goes to the spot he used to lay down every evening when we were watching TV, and she sniffs and looks around, like she wonders where he is.
I will always miss him, but I am glad he is no longer so uncomfortable.  Poor guy suffered through a lot in his 13 years, but at least in the eight years with us, he got to be part of the family, and part of his community.  He walked with the library group in the Red Ribbon Parade for many years, and  the bus stop kids always saw him and waved and even got him to go over and say hi during the parade. He did everything in his life with patience and a calm nature, totally uncharacteristic of a Schipperke.  He was my sweetheart, and I miss him every day.