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Prologue
I was only 11 the first time I saw her in the secret meadow. It was a cool spring day, still freshly bright with a hint of colder things at the edge. We’d had a long winter that year, which seemed to envelope spring on its way to summer. The meadow was the only place untouched by the lingering chill. It was alive with an explosion of dandelions; a thousand wishes just waiting to be carried away on the wind.
I was outside playing by myself; my older brother was in high school and way too cool to play with little kids, and my best friend and her family were out of state on vacation. I’d been terribly jealous, but determined to make the most of things. At 11, the world was still one giant safari, full of wonder, excitement, and mystery. And I had my secret meadow. I had never shown it to anyone, not even my best friend.
That spring day, nothing seemed more amazing to me than catching a glimpse of the golden retriever in the secret meadow. At first I was worried that someone else had found my meadow, but over the next several months, I continued to catch glimpses of the dog, but no other people. Still, as careful and diligent as I was, if I got too close, the dog would vanish, as if she’d never been there.
It wasn’t until I was older that I came to finally understand.