A skift of fluff whispers along the floor next to Buddy’s bed. He is there, softly snuffling in his sleep, a bit of raspberry tongue peeking out. A twitch of his feet accompanies a yip-yip from the shimmery world behind closed eyes where he runs and barks with Sammy, who is much missed but is alive again in Buddy’s memory and dreams. 

A raw bit of prose inspired by this prompt and by this suggestion: “Something small, every day.” I’m trying. :)