I took a long, slow walk last evening, saying my Rosary as I strolled. Tiny spring flowers were peeking up through the mast, winking in the dimming light, reminding me that life returns, that certain promises are always kept.  While whispering the ancient prayers, I also kept an eye out for the bull over whose health I have been so concerned lately. I never saw him. I will continue to look for him, and in the meantime, I will continue to hope that he was healed as miraculously as our little dog Dixee was. I hope he is on a sunny slope this morning, cropping grass and eyeing the cows…