We all have newsworthy events in our lives, none of which will ever make it to the Google's hot trends list or the local TV news. Still, these are important events to us all, and it is therapeutic to write them down and report them as they happen.

I had been to the United States twice before finally relocating here several years ago, but I had not had the opportunity to make many new friends at that point. I did have one good friend who lived about 30 minutes from my new home, but because I did not drive a vehicle and she had a large family to attend to, we could only chat on the phone from time to time. John and I lived out in the sticks in a wonderful hilly area west of the city. There were neighbors scattered about, although few and far between. On one side was a dear little old woman who was always pleasant and smiling, but not always sure what day it was, or even where she was. Even though it was good for both of us to get together for short visits, there was never any uplifting conversation; most of our chats were stories of death and illness.

On the other side of our home was our landlord; our only association with him was on rent days and even then it felt like a very long visit. He was a single man who lived in a fancy house and conducted his whole social life through the computer. There was an air of arrogance about this person, and I often noticed him gardening at the back of his house on the days when I was clad in a bikini and enjoying a good book out on the veranda. Perhaps his internet connection went out in hot weather.

My intended in-laws are lovely folks, but they lived over 75 miles away. Our phone service at that time did not have free long distance, and I did not know them well enough to spend any length of time of time chatting anyway. Despite all this, there was one particular friend I could always depend on to listen to my homesick ramblings. We would meet for a cool drink most days of the week, and although she did not even speak English, she smiled the whole time and understood everything I had to say. I knew I could rely on her to stay with me whether I was feeling happy or downright miserable. Only once or twice I arrived at our usual meeting place to find an empty seat, but she always got there within minutes of my sitting down to read the paper. When John found himself working graveyard shift she stayed with me so I did not feel lost and alone in this strange new country. Friends like this are seldom found.

My friend Tulip, our black Labrador, died peacefully yesterday afternoon. There will be no more silent conversations on the verandah over cool drinks, no more walks in the blustery cold weather, and none of those inquiring stares asking me what is wrong when I am feeling down and homesick. My friend never expected me to be anything I was not, and never demanded anything more than a decent meal, a fresh bowl of water and a scratched tummy. Two other friends of the feline variety, Oscar and Felix, have blank expressions on their faces today, even though their relationship with her was at paw's length most of the time.

John buried our friend in the shade of an old tree in our backyard. Tulip always hated the blistering summertime heat, so it felt somehow logical at that particular moment. Not a word was spoken, only to ourselves. We both have that empty numb feeling inside this morning, but we know tomorrow our happy memories of Tulip will be with us again. One day in the future when these memories begin to fade just a little, I can look back over these scribblings, my own breaking head line news, and be reminded of my friend and the hours we spent together talking about nothing at all. Sometimes the best conversations we have do not need words to make them memorable.

Nite nite girl...good dog.