It feels so heavy here, especially in the morning. So much is missing. Dog tags clinking, soft footsteps next to my bed, paw and cold nose on my arm. I keep thinking I hear him, either snuffling softly in his bed or walking past the closed bathroom door. This morning when I was still in bed I thought I heard him cry, the way I only heard on rare occasions when something actually hurt him – high pitched and fearful.

Maybe it was from my heart.


2 thoughts on “Loneliness

  1. While I was writing my first children’s book, I had a Golden to my left and my right, beside the chair. Being left handed, I would reach down and scratch Rusty’s head when I was thinking, or stuck for words. Three months later he died of hemangiosarcoma, and for nearly a year afterwards, I would find myself reaching over the side of the chair for him.
    What you did for your boy was the right thing, but being right does not make it any easier.


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