I miss you.
I miss the long walks,
and the head pats you gave me when you got home from work.
I miss our games of catch,
and the sleight of hand you performed at dinner.
Your remnant fries,
my five-star meal.
I didn’t know where you went at first.
My days began being filled with waiting for you to walk through the door,
again,
and again.
But you never came.
Mom tried telling me what happened,
but I couldn’t understand her.
All I saw were the tears that ran down her cheeks,
and how my fur got damp when she dug her face into my neck.
Her sobs racking through her as she tightened her arms around me.
And in that moment,
I felt how much she missed you too.
