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August came dripping into Northeast PA — literally.

I woke up this morning to the sound of steady rain falling outside — and the thump, thump, thumping sound of drips seeping through leaks in the attic roof and into containers.

Running upstairs to ensure no other leaks began, I found another. Running to the basement, I looked for a container. I found a Rubbermaid that used to hold my dog’s food. It once sat at the bottom of the basement steps. Now, a cardboard box filled with things sat on top of it.

Opening it to make sure it was empty, I actually found dry dog food and the scoop that apparently got forgotten about after Buddy left this world. It probably was enough to give him two more feedings.

No use for 8-year-old dog food (really, who would feed a dog food that old?), I took the container upstairs to the kitchen, double bagged a plastic shopping bag and dumped the food into it. I wiped out excess crumbs, took the container to the attic and strategically placed it to catch the drip.

I have photos, a paw print mould, his last collar, the blanket he last slept on, a few toys and his cremains. I never realized that the dog food remained. He’s gone eight years, but the loyalty, love, protection and memories that came with Buddy remain in my mind and heart. Call it crazy, too sentimental or whatever, but to me, the container catching those drops was a little sign that my faithful pet still watches out for us — as if to say, “Here ya go! This container’s available!”

Thanks, Buddy. Time to figure out roof repairs.